Diverging Timelines Book One: Beginnings
by Space-Time-Leapers
Summary: Book 1 of 6. In 2003, Lothos, the all-powerful ruler of a time travel project, gains a new ally, an extraterrestrial with an understanding of time and similar goals to his own: to take over the Earth as supreme ruler. In 2005, Cpt. Jack Harkness encounters a series of horrific murders. How do they relate to each other? Is the Doctor involved? Had Humanity's Defender gone mad?
1. Introduction

A message from asearcher and Julianna Calavicci (aka Space Time Leapers):

Hello to our readers and welcome to our first ever Doctor Who/Quantum Leap/Torchwood fanfiction! We invite you to go down the rabbit hole as we weave an epic tale (epic being the operative word.)

This story literally took us _years_ to write together and went through several rewrites in the process. In fact, we wrote this before the writers of Doctor Who and Torchwood literally pulled the ideas out of our heads and used them in those shows (don't know how they did it... perhaps they are telepaths... but we thought of things in our story which appeared in the show later – we didn't steal from them. Honest!)

So... with that introduction we do wish to let you know that this will be a long story, sort of like the Doctor Who episodes of old that took week after week to take one from story introduction to final closure. It's a grand total of six - Yes! Six! - books, each book over 20 chapters in length, and a few shorter stories that can be read separately, one of which has already been posted under the name "The Five Stages of Grief." So bear with us and we're sure you're going to like the twists and turns we take you through.


	2. Chapter 1

_Well, here it is – the start of our epic story. We hope you will enjoy it. Don't hesitate to review!_

**Chapter 1 **

_Melbourne, Australia_

_September 2003_

Dr. Periwinkle Langford, CEO of one of the largest non-profit organizations in Melbourne, made her way to the hidden elevator, giving visitors a congenial smile as she passed them. The foolish people had no idea that, beneath their feet and five stories down, there was a vast cavern. It had once been one of the homes of a highly top secret organization. No one knew when the cavern had been abandoned, lost to the rest of the organization, but there was evidence to show that there had been a biological accident. Whatever had happened, the powers that had once run this organization had locked down the building and completely sanitized it. However, it had then been abandoned and sold by the Melbourne government for the cost of back taxes. Peri knew what was down there now. She knew all too well. And she also knew that the new occupant of the abandoned government installation would want to know what she had discovered... and that her _boss_ wasn't the kind to wait for a written report.

Making sure that no unauthorized person could see her, she slipped into the elevator and, pressing buttons on a keypad, entered the code that would carry her to the bottom level. Then, with the assurance that came from knowing she was the second in command of a highly elite team, she walked through the rock-lined hallways to an enormous door. As she entered the room the door led into, a booming voice filled the air.

"Dr. Langford. I don't like to be kept waiting. You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. What, pray tell, kept you?" The voice dripped with arrogance.

"Forgive me, Lothos," Peri stated with a bow of her head. "It is not an easy thing to find your way through rush hour traffic in a large city, even in a private limo. I came as soon as was possible."

"Sounds like poor planning on your part."

She shrugged. "I explained myself whether you choose to accept it or not. You're not the one driving around up there. Now, Lothos, how may I be of service to you?"

The lighting changed slightly in the room, indicating that Lothos was growing tired of Peri's stubborn streak. "Your impertinence is becoming troublesome, Dr. Langford."

"I may be troublesome but you know you need me." She took a breath. "However, since you called me, I suppose we should get down to business. I have been looking into those temporal fluctuations as you ordered. I'm not sure of their origin but they seem to be coming from directly above us, just one level up and a few yards from the main laboratory."

"Fascinating. Does this have anything to do with the equipment we found when we moved into this wonderful building? Have you developed a theory as to what is causing them?"

The records from the previous occupants of the building weren't complete but there was still enough for her to piece together where the equipment that Lothos had referred to had come from. Apparently, there had been some kind of spaceship that had crashed to the Earth in the early 20th century and the remnants of the craft had been sent to this facility for study and experimentation. It had been surmised that the device was some kind of alien scanner. She'd worked out some of the mechanics of it and had even gotten it to work, although the specifics of why or how she still didn't fully understand. The results had allowed her team of scientists to discover the aforementioned phenomenon.

"I can't be absolutely certain as to the cause of the fluctuations but I would theorize that it is some kind of energy field of unknown origin... and that there is something inside it."

The light brightened in the room again, showing Lothos was intrigued. "Something in it? Any idea what?"

Peri crossed her arms. "Whatever it is... it's alive. As for _what_ it is..." She shook her head. "We can't tell that unless we pull it out."

"Perhaps we can contact it."

Peri sighed slightly. "We have been trying but we haven't had much success. Radio waves, Morse code, and..."

The lights again flickered, indicating thought. "What about regular speech? Just because the phenomenon is strange doesn't mean that contact with it has to be complicated."

"I was about to say that it had been tried if you would have given me the chance. All I got back was some very odd sounds," she informed.

"Perhaps it is in a language we do not know. We've found several things in this building that show evidence of different languages. Run the sounds through the computer left by the previous occupants... the one we hacked when we took over this place."

She exhaled, clearly frustrated with her obvious inability to finish her report without being interrupted or questioned constantly. "Listen. I'm not a linguist. I'm a physicist. You wanted to know the cause of the temporal fluctuations. It's not in my job description to also be a translator. However, that being said, I _have _run the sounds through the computer and all the results have come back negative. If it is a language, it is not in our current database."

"Then check other databases," came the impatient response.

"I was just about to get permission to do just that," she responded with a smile that failed to hide her contempt. "I need authorization to consult with our contact in UNIT. Their information concerning extraterrestrial matters have proven to be beneficial in the past."

"If you need to contact UNIT, then do so. I don't want them to be compromised, though. It took years to get them into a position where they were actually useful."

"I wouldn't dream of endangering that particular commodity," she assured him before turning and heading for the door. Exiting the room, she made her way up to her private lab, sending her subordinate away. Then getting on her computer, she inputted the necessary pass codes to access the link with their connection in the paramilitary organization endorsed by the United Nations. She understood Lothos' concern considering the steps necessary in infiltrating the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Once she had informed their contact of their needs, she waited for the response she knew would come.

It took some time before the coded database actually reached her but once she had synced the information and ran the query, she was amazed at the confirmation. "It is a language," she whispered to herself, breathing rapidly from the rush. "It's an honest alien language!"

The room brightened perceptively, indicating the arrival of her employer. "Alien?"

If she was surprised by his voice suddenly coming from nowhere, she didn't show it on her face. "Definitely alien. There is one word that keeps repeating over and over again. It means 'help'," Peri announced excitedly. "Someone is trapped in the energy field. I'll have Jerold help me set up some kind of translation software so that we can communicate with it but, until then, we're going to have to use what little we have in the database and what we're receiving. There isn't much to work with."

Lothos paused before agreeing to have the link set up. "Let me know when everything is ready."

It was several more hours before Dr. Langford and her assistant completed the necessary work, using the information available from both UNIT and their own resources in the complex. The translation software that they came up with was incomplete, given their lack of complete data. She knew however that it was still going to be useful for the purposes of starting communications with whatever entity was in the temporal anomaly.

"The software is ready," she finally informed Lothos. "Mind you, there will be some words or phrases that will not be understood in English. We just don't have enough information to make a definitive translation. In addition, with the syntax of this language... well, you may feel like you're speaking to Yoda."

"The little pointy eared green runt in Star Wars?"

"That's the one," she confirmed. "Talks oddly. You know... 'Trust you I will,'" she said, demonstrating with a poor imitation of the fictional character.

"Lovely," Lothos responded with distain. "All this technology and can't even get the translation in the King's English."

"Queen's English," Peri correction. "We haven't had a king since George VI."

"It was just an expression. I don't really care who the hell is sitting on that ridiculous throne, Peri."

"Oi, mate! Don't go knocking Her Majesty," she protested.

"I'll knock whomever I wish," the disembodied intelligence hissed at her.

"Ruddy American," came the grumbled protest under her breath.

"And do you really think you'd have this job if you had to rely on the grand inhabitants of the former English empire? If not for me, you'd still be working in that second rate research company."

"British Emp..." she started to correct him again. The well placed laser beam that effectively disintegrated her cup of tea provided her with the impetuses to shut the hell up at the moment, not wanting the next target to be her head despite her mourning the loss of her favorite cup. "The software is running," she stated, not letting her discomfort show on her face. "I'm patching you into verbal recognition. You may speak at your own leisure."

Over the next few minutes, the back and forth of English the strange alien language went through the translation link, the software picking up on grammatical nuances of the exchange. Eventually, the words were translated in to full sentences.

The voice sounded almost frightened as it spoke. "_Trapped I am. Burn I do... Provide help!_"

Lothos let out a growl. "Peri, you've really got to find some way to make this sound less... unintelligible!"

She shrugged. "Nothing I can do. You'll just have to put up with it for now."

"If I must." He turned his voice to the link again. "Can you give me a reason why we should help you?"

"_I suffer because! Enough it is? I know not who you are hell. I want freedom just._" A whimper of pain edged the male voice. "_You do want what?_"

"What?"

"He wants to know what you want."

"What I want is to understand what's coming out of that speaker without having to think about."

"I've already explained..."

"Yes, Yes." He turned his voice to the transmitting speaker again. "I want to know who and what you are and what you're doing in that blasted energy field."

"_Omega's mother! You're on Sol 3, aren't you? Speaking English. Terrific._" It was clearly that the male voice on the other end was less than thrilled with the realization.

"You can speak English? Then why have we been wasting my precious time with this game of verbal charades?"

"_Well, __**you **__certainly aren't the Doctor_," the voice replied with a hint of sarcasm. "_**He **__would at least show some mercy, even if he did trap me here_."

Temporal anomaly? Doctor? Could this being be speaking about the good Doctor that had become Lothos' bane? "Would that be Dr. Beckett?"

There was another long silence, as if the owner of the voice was pondering how to respond to the question. "_I do not know Dr. Beckett. The name sounds human, though. Are you human?_" He paused. "_Ask a stupid question... Sol 3... What the bloody hell else would you be?_"

"I'm not human. Not anymore."

"_Used a chameleon arch, did you?_"

"I don't know what the blazes you're talking about."

"_Sounds about right. Like I said... Sol 3._"

"Watch it. You _need_ me. Unless you want to stay there," Lothos posited arrogantly. "So the question is, what do you offer me if I help you out of your predicament?"

The voice chuckled slightly. "_That depends entirely on what you want. I can give you so much._"

The lights brightened in the room. "Then by all means, let's start the negotiations."

_"With you?"_ came the derogatory response.

"This conversation is at an end." Lothos directed his words to Peri. "Shut down the link, Dr. Langford. Obviously this... thing isn't interested in paying a fair price for our assistance."

"_Whoa whoa whoa whoa!_" a rapid fire entreat poured out. There was a long pause, as if the life form, whatever it was, was considering the risks of giving any kind of trust to anyone. "_I suppose that we could... come to some kind of agreement._"

"That's better. The question stands. What payment can you provide for your release?"

"_Technologies centuries beyond what you are capable of._"

"Well, since you are in an energy field, what do you know of such matters?"

There was a brief laugh. "_More than you know, I dare say._"

"Really? Can you give me a sample?" asked Lothos, intrigued.

"_What do you know about time travel?_"

It was Lothos' time to laugh. "Well, I certainly believe I edge out Dr. Beckett in a number of ways."

"_Again, I do not know who this Dr. Beckett is but I'm assuming that, given we are talking about time travel, he is some sort of temporal physicist. That would also indicate that you are as well. But how much do you know?_"

"Enough to run circles around the human race in that arena."

"_Really? That shouldn't be too difficult. You mustn't be as well versed as you suppose you are._"

"Do you want my help or not?" came the arrogant voice indicating displeasure as the lights dimmed.

There was another long pause. "_Given the options, I suppose I must rely on you, whoever you are._"

"And you will provide your service to me?"

"_I will provide you services, as long as we share in the rewards._"

Lothos wasn't sure he liked this being but was still intrigued by the way he talked about temporal matters. "I take care of all my employees needs."

Again, there was a long pause. "_Very well_," the voice finally said, though it was clear that the owner wasn't in the least bit pleased. "_If that is what it will take to cause you to get me out of this hell..._"

"We will start on the process immediately. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?"

"_A cup of tea and a massage would be lovely_," the voice replied sarcastically. "_But given that it is impossible for you to provide that..._"

"I'm attempting to provide you with assistance until we can pull you out of there. This isn't exactly a standard process," Lothos sneered.

The reply was condescending. "_Just realign the phase matrix to the quantum signature of a gap in the Time Vortex. An imbecile could figure that out._"

"Can you describe this Time Vortex?" asked Lothos.

There was a sigh. "_I can see that I'm speaking to a very primitive life form. The Time Vortex is the subspace between the past, present, and future. My people conquered it centuries ago._"

"Primitive? Perhaps if that's all you think of us, we can just call an end to this now."

"_Perhaps primitive isn't the proper word. Young... yes, that's a much better word. Young. There is still so much for you to learn._"

His feathers somewhat soothed, Lothos calmed. "And I do so want to add more knowledge to my project."

"_Then follow my instructions_," the voice instructed gently. "_Since we seem to be partners, in a way, what shall I call you?_"

"My name is Lothos. And what shall I call you?"

"_You may call me... Harold. Harold Saxon."_

"Excellent. Now that the preliminaries are done, I will leave you in the hands of my top scientist, Dr. Periwinkle Langford. Provide her with any information she needs and she will assure that the proper equipment is put in place."

_"Periwinkle_?" Saxon's amusement clearly showed in his voice. "_I like that name._"

"My friends call me Peri," she informed him.

"_And you may call me M__r_. _Saxon_," came the reply. "_Shall we begin?_"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_May 2004_

Harold Saxon instructed Lothos' people on how to realign the phase matrix to the quantum signature of a gap in the Time Vortex. Saxon explained that leaving the energy field, which he referred to as an "Eye," was the first step. He would then reside in that gap, a nowhere space between the field and their reality, while his new colleagues conceived of a method to bring him into the world again. During the eight months that the work progressed, it was increasingly obvious from his intonations that he was impatient with the procedures, often belittling the scientists he was instructing, pulling back his vehemence only when Lothos disagreed with his "attitude."

Finally, when all was prepared, Dr. Langford's voice rang out. "We're almost ready, Mr. Saxon."

From the energy field, a tired "_How soon?_" emerged.

"Within the hour."

"_An hour?!_" Saxon's voice boomed.

"Yes. To pull in enough power, we have to wait until the power grid is in its down usage time."

"_I suppose after being trapped in this forsaken place for so long that I can wait a mere sixty minutes more._" It was plain that Saxon wasn't in the least pleased by the delay.

The fifty minutes until the start of the down usage time went by quickly. At the appointed time, Lothos' project pulled on the grid, sucking the power necessary to run the massive equipment.

As the power rose exponentially, the energy field seemed to fluctuate even more, causing workers and scientists alike to move away quickly in awe. What looked like electricity bounced around the room deep in the heart of Lothos' project, striking one worker dead instantly. Another moment passed and the room was filled with a high-pitched whine, causing those still alive to cover their ears. The whine continued, cracking the glass with the letter "T" etched into it, a remnant from the former occupants, followed by the screams of the current employees of the facility. Finally, though, the transfer was complete and there was sudden quiet in the room.

Lothos was the first to speak. "Are you still there? Did you survive?"

There was a long silence before the male voice, whose owner had been the focus of all their efforts, finally spoke. "_Yes, I am here. This is... interesting. I am free of the Eye. After so long..._" Saxon seemed to exhale loudly, a sound that reflected pleasure. "_The pain is gone. I feel whole and yet... not. Very strange indeed._"

The light brightened. "Good. Perhaps then we can move forward to the next stage of the process you alluded to."

"_Yes_," Saxon immediately agreed. "_Yes, indeed. I have enemies that wouldn't hesitate to hunt me down and drag me back to my world as their prisoner. It is imperative that they do not find me, especially if we want our new association to bear fruit._"

"I expect my return on investment to be worthwhile. If what you have told me is correct, there is no way our association will not bear fruit."

"_In that case, I need you to make a telepathic dampening field generator_," came the reply.

"What is that?" Peri asked.

"_Exactly what it sounds like. It's a generator that produces an electrical field that dampens a telepath's ability to sense another telepath, namely me._"

"Exactly how big does this field need to be?" Lothos questioned. "I'm assuming that this generator will need to continuously run once you're in this world."

"_Of course, it does. Otherwise, the others of my kind will be able to sense my presence even if they are a thousand million light years away and in a different time. As for the field... the whole of the Earth sounds about right to me._"

"The whole of Earth?" Peri exclaimed in surprise. "Exactly how much power will this generator consume? You know we had to wait to pull you out of the energy field to gain enough power."

A sigh came from the limbo space in which Harold Saxon currently resided. "_I suppose, given the fact that you are ill-equipped and a little young as a planet, a less expansive area will have to do, at least until I am there to do a proper job of it. A comfortable distance, enough for me to have some freedom of movement and not feel as if I were in a cage. How large is the facility you are located in?_"

Peri provided a general concept of the size of his building indicating that it had ten expansive floors below ground and five above. "_I suppose that will have to do until we can find a more... spacious answer_," Saxon replied to Dr. Langford's specifications.

Lothos spoke to Peri. "You will continue to work with our new friend to provide whatever he needs to bring him to the Prometheus Institute. Please keep me informed of your progress."

Peri crossed her arms, clearly displeased with having to maintain her current "relationship" with the blatantly egotistical entity in the ethereal plain. "Yes, Lothos," she responded, hiding her frustration just as she had been since this endeavor had begun.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Cardiff, Wales_

_June 2004_

Captain Jack Harkness sat at his desk deep within the Torchwood facility in Cardiff, Wales. In front of him was an instrument that looked in some ways like a really wild and crazy laptop. Only closer inspection would show that this 'laptop' had not been built in any factory on Earth. Rather, the strange letters showed it was from a culture that had nothing to do with the third planet from the star named Sol. This particular gem had been found in an abandoned coal mine that had come to the attention of Torchwood when local legends of hauntings seemed to have some truth to them. When the Torchwood Three team investigated, this equipment had been found.

The ex-Time Agent had been toying with it for the last few weeks and was close to cracking its secrets. From what he could tell, it was meant to track temporal 'events,' for a lack of a better word. Jack's goal was to fine tune it enough to see the patterns from one particular temporally astute alien. He wasn't sure he could do it but given his previous occupation and the skills he'd gained in the 51st Century, he was certainly going to try.

"Jack, we picked up some alien activity on the other end of town. Looks pretty minor," Suzie Costello commented as she waltzed into Jack's office. She glanced over at Jack, noting his concentration on the odd alien artifact. Ever since she had been recruited by him to join Torchwood three years before, he seemed to be obsessed by certain things. First it was police boxes that seemed to appear and disappear out of nowhere. Now it was this temporal tracking device... or TTD as she liked to call it. "Are you still on that thing? It doesn't work, you know."

"That's because there's evidence of a large amount of temporal activity recently that has blocked sectors of the drive. It's still showing some patterns." He hit a few buttons. "Look at these. While there are a few outliers before 1953, all the rest have been clustered from then to almost present day. They look like time eddies with time changing around them. Then there are these single points that appear randomly but with similar basic signatures each time."

She leaned over his shoulder and looked at the screen that so fascinated him. "So, what does that mean? That time is actually changing randomly? Or did someone change it deliberately?"

"Well, there seem to be two or three types of eddies. It's a little hard to see if these two are really different or not. But this one is definitely different from the other two. Then there are a few times where there's overlap between different signatures. Nothing major seems to change which makes me wonder if it _is _deliberate. Most entities trying to change time try to do it in a big way. Still, the sheer number is astounding."

Suzie blinked for a moment, wondering how he was so knowledgeable about time and shifting timelines. Then again, there was still much that she didn't know about her boss or the_ agency'_ she worked for. Based on the information she'd learned to date, it wasn't outside of possibilities that Torchwood had a handle on time travel. Regardless of the reasons for Jack's knowledge, she knew it was always best not to ask questions.

Slipping on her glasses as she knelt beside Jack's chair, she tried to get into a more comfortable position. "The eddies show minor changes... doesn't make much sense if you are trying to change Earth's history. Well, except for a couple, that is. Two of the single points converge in 1912... the Titanic sinking? And look at this one in 1963... one of the eddies and one of the single points converge there. The Kennedy assassination? Not a human conspiracy but a time one? And there's that one... those two points meeting on December 31st, 1999." She noted that an odd look crossed her boss' features upon the mention of Kennedy's death and the Millennium, as if he were haunted personally by both events. While the Millennium change had been interesting, to say the least from her point of view, she couldn't understand why Jack would be so disturbed by the events in 1963 since Jack wouldn't have even been born yet. Again, it was better not to ask. "So, if this isn't some grand alien scheme to take over the Earth, what is it?" she questioned when Jack didn't reply to her previous queries.

"I don't know. I just don't have enough data." He sighed as he shook his head as if willing the thoughts away. "As to the single points, there are so many of them. I'm not sure there's any way to make better sense of them."

"There isn't even a pattern to them." Suzie sighed as well. "Totally random and in practically every era of human history, some of them major events. And any time there are changes, they are so small that they could be just random time shifts." She gave him a hint of a smile. "So, I was wrong. It does work. Still doesn't help us deciphering it, though."

Jack harrumphed. "Yeah. Doesn't help at all." He turned off the power to the equipment deciding that perhaps looking at it at another time might be better than trying to force a breakthrough. "So what was this minor alien activity you were talking about?"

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne, Australia_

_November 2004_

Six months.

That was how long it took to develop, test, and perfect the telepathic dampening field generator that Saxon had demanded. There were many reasons for the overly lengthy amount of time to build the machine. Finding a suitable energy source to run it with, finding the necessary parts, insuring that the schematics that Saxon had to recite actually made sense to the human engineers in charge, finding a way to test the device in the first place... all of them created unique challenges for Peri Langford to take on. And she took them on with gusto, her fascination with the mysterious Harold Saxon growing with every conversation that she shared with him.

Saxon, it seemed, wasn't nearly as belligerent or impatient now that he was free of the energy field, his explanation that the field had caused him great pain giving an understandable reason to his ill-temper before. Now free from pain to distract him from the work, he appeared to want to present himself in a better light and to show the human scientist his softer side. He encouraged her to talk to him as she worked, which she did at first hesitantly and then openly. She told him everything about herself: her political views, her likes and dislikes, the fact that she had no family to speak of other than her fellow employees at the Prometheus Institute (and they weren't really much of a family, in her opinion), her status as CEO of the public front for Lothos' project... there was nothing she kept from him.

He, in turn listened quietly, not ready to provide too much information until he was completely out of the bubble he had existed in. One thing he did talk about with Peri was his desire to be a part of the universe again. He desperately wanted to once again breathe, see, hear, and feel. The idea was tantalizing, giving him the motivation he needed to help Peri create the field generator he so desperately needed.

While the concept of being so completely deprived of sensory input, other than hearing, wasn't a new concept to her, Peri couldn't help but wonder how the being in the pocket of space-time could remain sane. She didn't understand why she was so intensely involved, other than scientifically, with him. But she did know she wanted to free him more and more with every passing day.

She hurried into the room where the anomaly had been found so many months before, her eyes wide with excitement. "Mr. Saxon, are you awake?" she asked, her voice reflecting her emotional state.

"_I am always awake,_" he answered. "_There is no way to truly sleep here,_" he grumbled.

"How would you like to sleep in a real bed tonight?" she questioned, her eyes gleaming with her smile. Getting no answer, she continued. "We did it, Mr. Saxon! The telepathic dampening field generator. We completed it and it works."

"_I will reenter the universe?_" The tone in his voice showed he was not going to let false promises throw his concentration. He'd been able to hold his own but as each year had passed while in the Eye, he'd come closer and closer to losing hope. To have freedom so close was intoxicating. For him, it was all the more reason to keep things even.

"Yes. As soon as the generator is in place, we'll pull you out completely and you will be free. I'm having technicians install the generator now to a power source. The moment I get the go ahead, I'm pulling you out."

"_That will be..._" he started, suddenly overcome with an emotion he seldom felt, one of gratitude that this woman was happily ready to deliver him to his destiny. He decided that a small disclosure was in order. "_I have not been so happy since I was the supreme leader of the Mantadons._"

Peri blinked, fascinated by the revelation. "Who are the Mantadons?" She slowly sat down, her attention focused on his upcoming response.

He paused and then stated proudly, "_They were my greatest creation and would have set so many free to pursue their dreams._"

"What do you mean?"

"_I mean that I had solved one of the greatest problems for my people. The Mantadons were masters of actions. You could show them how to do something once and they would do it that way perfectly every time. Never a variation. And yet, they were not robotic but rather flesh and blood. That gave them great flexibility in the things they could do._"

"So... eidetic memory?"

"_Oh, that was just the start. They were designed to do so much more. If not for Thete, all would have gone to plan._"

"And who was this Thete? You've mentioned him before. One of your enemies?"

"_He was the man who put me here. Imprisoned me for eternity._"

Peri looked towards the anomaly in space-time, sympathy in her eyes. "Not for eternity. You will soon be free." Almost as if to reaffirm her words, the intercom in the room chirped. Standing, she walked briskly to the receiver and pressed a button. "Langford," she answered.

"We are ready, Doctor," came a male voice.

"On my mark, Mr. Thomas," she instructed. She turned towards the gap in time. "Pulling you out, Nr. Saxon," she told the entity they had worked so long to release. Striding to the equipment on the other side of the room, she made the necessary adjustments. "Five... four... three... two... one... Realigning field."

The room blazed with a bright light. As the being was pulled out of the bubble and into the world, an opposite force seemed to pull him back. Peri reached out and grabbed at the entity. As she made contact, a piercing sound seemed to echo within her mind. It was as if a steady rhythm of four drum beats were playing behind her eyes. She shook her head and pulled once more, the act dislodging the man from his prison. She gazed up into his eyes - humanoid, from all appearances - transfixed by their chocolate brown color. She swallowed tightly, unable to look away from him. It was almost as if he had her under some kind of spell, the rhythmic sound still in her head.

He was naked and the sensation of sudden cold along with the sound and lights appeared to overwhelm him. He screamed as years of sensory deprivation came to a sudden halt, the strongest sensation being the return of the drums in his mind, which had been absent in both the Eye and the ether.

The scream forced Peri out of her reverie and she quickly but gently took hold of him, helping him down to the floor before he could collapse. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're free. You're safe." As she spoke, a rush of footfalls indicated that a couple of technicians had hurried to help. Peri looked at them with stern eyes. "Get a robe or something for him. And water." She didn't need to raise her voice to get them to act quickly since they knew the consequences of inaction would be.

He clung to her tightly for a long moment then, with determination, closed his eyes and abruptly stopped screaming. As if pulling strength from the air, his chest heaved. When he opened his eyes again, all pain and fear was gone, the drums now quieter but still there. Curiosity had replaced the pain and anxiety he had felt. "What is this place?"

She stared at him, shock on her features at the sudden change. Confusion filled her eyes as she carefully told him, "A lab in Lothos' complex."

He looked around at the displays and wires. A short feel of all time told him that somehow he'd regained his Time Lord status. He had touched the mind of another of his species, which caused him great alarm as he was certain that the reverse could also be true. With a sudden revelation, he looked to Peri, his anxiety returning briefly. "Has the telepathic field been raised?"

Peri gasped slightly, mentally kicking herself for her negligence. "Thomas! Raise the field!" she ordered. Hearing confirmation that the field was up, she smiled.

As the field was raised, contact with the single individual ceased, making him wonder why he could only feel one other Time Lord. "The overload to my senses was more than I expected," he murmured, figuring that was what prevented him from feeling more of his kind.

"I understand," she told him softly, thinking that his words were an explanation for his sudden change from screaming to silence. "Can't be easy coming back into the world when you've felt only pain for so long and then nothing at all for almost six months." As she spoke, a long black robe was delivered per her previous orders. She briefly released her hold on Saxon to accept the robe before carefully draping it over his shoulders. "Can you stand?"

He took stock of how he felt. Although the pain had been great, it was subsiding. In comparison to a regeneration, his rebirth had not been as bad as it could have been. "Yes. I can." He pulled himself up and soon was standing in the room.

As he did, the lights dimmed slightly. "Ah, Peri. I see you've brought our guest safely to us. Well done."

"Thank you, Lothos," Peri replied to the hybrid-computer as Saxon slipped his arms into his new robe and tied it around his body. At the same time, a technician came in with the ordered glass of water, which Saxon took without comment and swallowed down quickly.

"So..." he said. He stopped, blinking for a moment as he finally noticed his own voice. "Is this really how I sound?" He grinned broadly. "I like it." As if to realign his thought process, he tucked his hands into the pockets of the robe. "Anyway... you're Lothos, eh?"

"Yes," the disembodied consciousness stated without fanfare. "Peri has told me that after your ordeal you will likely be exhausted. I suppose that, being in a biological body like you are, she's right."

Saxon glared up at the ceiling. "I gather from your choice of words that you are not... biological in nature. I've been rescued by a machine?" He didn't seem pleased with the prospect.

"I was once biological. I choose this form for a variety of reasons, not the least that I never tire, I can interface the virtual world, and I can now compute at the speed of multiple parallel supercomputers. I have never regretted my decision."

"Good for you," Saxon replied, clearly unimpressed by Lothos' words. "Well, you may not tire but I occasionally do, especially after spending an indeterminate amount of time in a sub-spatial junction. Besides..." He slowly brought his hand up to examine it. "I want to see what I look like."

"A room has been prepared for you. We'll discuss specifics of your role at the Prometheus Institute when you are able." The focus changed. "Peri, I'd like you to join me after you taken care of his needs."

"Of course, Lothos," Peri replied with a slight bow of her head. She turned to Saxon, a bright smile on her face. "This way, Mr. Saxon," she instructed, putting a supportive hand under his elbow.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I must say, Periwinkle, that it is good to finally meet such a remarkable woman in person. You are as beautiful as you are intelligent," Harold Saxon commented as he allowed himself to be escorted by Dr. Langford through Lothos' complex.

Blushing, she smiled. "The first is simply good genes and taking care of myself. The latter, while somewhat due to the same genetics, is also a result of applying myself."

"Ah, but that just shows how superior you are to the average human," he told her. "One should always take credit when it is due but never forget superior genetics, especially amongst a species such as yours." Part of his mind was telling him that he was just flattering her to take advantage of the perks she could get him. Another part, however, wondered if he actually meant his own words.

"And what species are you?" she asked. Although they had never actually spoken about this during their long months working together, she knew he could not be human and have survived as he had.

"Time Lord," Saxon told her with a hint of pride in his voice. "A great and noble race... and also extremely dull and narrow-minded, if you ask me. I'm sort of a rogue amongst my people. Don't play to their tune."

"Is that why you were in the..." She considered her words and finally choose, "...predicament you were in?"

"In a way," he replied after a moment of consideration. "And in another way, not at all." Seeing the confused look on her face, he clarified. "My people would never imprison someone inside the Eye of Harmony. The dangers on the fabric of time could be too much. They prefer to lock you away, cryogenically frozen until the universe ends, or completely disintegrate you. My imprisonment was caused by another rogue Time Lord who seems to think he can interfere in anything he doesn't like."

"And that would be Thete. What an awful being he must be."

"Terrible. A complete meddler. Always getting in my way, spoiling all my plans... He thinks he's humanity's defender but all he seems to care about is how he thinks humanity should be." He stopped in front of the door Peri led him to. "I'm trying to build a better universe, one of solidarity and eternal peace."

"Noble goals."

"He doesn't see that. He's so focused on how he thinks things should be and at stopping anyone who sees it differently than him." He paused as she opened the door. "You know, he actually committed genocide to save a small handful of creatures whose population is literally all across the universe, infecting it like a disease."

Peri's eyes narrowed. "That's awful!" she exclaimed. "Such a man should be put into prison himself."

Saxon hid a smile at her reaction. Little did she know that the _disease_ he was referring to was humanity itself and the Doctor's genocide of the Vervoids had prevented the extinction of all animal-kind on Earth. "I completely agree," he told her. He waited patiently as she opened the door and allowed him to step into the rooms provided for him. "Seems very comfortable," he commented as he looked around the well-furnished room.

She smiled. "I oversaw the preparations myself." She went over to a door and opened it, turning on the light. "This is your office. And here," she said going to another door, "is your bedroom."

He inspected the tasteful furnishings, a hint of a smile teasing his lips. "Very British, isn't it?" he commented, though his tone indicated an admiration for the design. The walls of the living room were painted soft eggshell, accented by mahogany trim around the windows and the large gas fireplace. The furniture's distinct brown tones gave the room a rich, luxurious quality but didn't seem in the least flamboyant or excessive. The bedroom was equally luxurious, using the same color scheme as the living room. The office's wall was a calming shade of blue gray and it was once again furnished with mahogany.

"It's perfect," he complimented, going over to the large windows and looking through them onto the city below. "Absolutely perfect. By the way, what city is this?"

"Well, I didn't know what you'd like so I had to guess based on your voice." She went over to him standing by his side. "And you're in Melbourne, Australia."

"Australia? Can't say I've ever been to the 'Land Down Under'. I was going to comment that it certainly wasn't London."

"I've lived here all my life."

"Do you like it?" he questioned, unsure why he was so interested in the history of a simple human female.

"I do." She was thoughtful. "I've been all over the world as CEO for Lothos' Prometheus Institute but still I only feel right when I'm at home."

He gave a bit of a huff. "Can't ever say that I've felt that way about my own home."

"You can make this your home. At least for now."

He gave her a sly smile. "Can I, now?" Taking a step towards her, he lowered his voice slightly. "And exactly how is it that you are going to make me feel at home... Dr. Langford?"

She felt her heart beat faster as the Time Lord moved closer to her. She'd never felt this level of excitement. Her lips felt dry and she wet them quickly with her tongue. "I'll start with asking if there's anything I can get to make you more comfortable."

"Well..." he murmured, his face directly in front of hers, inches apart, his eyes meeting hers. "You can call me by my real name. That would make me feel at home."

"I thought that's what I was doing, Mr. Saxon. Are you telling me that's not your real name?" she asked, suspicion coloring her voice. If Lothos had taught her nothing else, it was to beware of Trojan horses.

"Mr. Saxon is so formal, not a reflection of my true nature."

"Are you then wishing that I call you Harold?" She knew he had given permission to the true head of the Prometheus Institute to use his first name.

"Still too formal, dear Periwinkle," he cooed to her.

"Harry?" she questioned, trying to anticipate his wishes.

Saxon stared at her for a long moment, confusion plain on his face. Normally, the telepathic commands he was sending to a subject once he looked into their eyes resulted in immediate obedience. This human woman was remarkable resistant to his abilities. How else could she not know what to call him when he was practically screaming it into her mind? "Harry?" he queried. "What sort of name is Harry?"

"A diminutive of Harold," she explained. "You said you wanted me to call you something less formal." She paused. "Instead of my guessing, why don't you just tell me what you'd like for me to call you? It might be more efficient."

He blinked, clearly taken back by her words and unable to figure out how to respond to her suggestion. If he were honest with her and told her to call him by the true name he had chosen, he doubt that she would actually call him by said name and any possible control over her would be out the window faster than a parakeet escaping from a birdcage. As for the nickname she had chosen...

"Say it again," he told her.

"What? Say what again?"

"Harry."

"Is that what you want me to call you then? Harry?"

He frowned slightly. "Don't say it like a question. Say it proper."

'Harry," she complied, her tone filled with respect.

Saxon gave a slight smile at the word, obviously pleased with the result. "Works for me. But only from you. The rest of your people should call me by what I'm universally recognized as."

"And that would be..." she questioned by drawing out the last.

"The Master."

Peri blinked. "I see." Internally she thought he was being rather arrogant but having worked with an arrogant human-used-to-be for a number of years, she'd learned to reel in her normal reaction to such over the top proclamations. Her head tilted slightly. "Then why did you provide the name Harold Saxon?"

"Would your boss have pulled me out of the Eye of Harmony if I had introduced myself as the Master? Besides, I like the name."

She considered her question. "Probably not, but you never know with Lothos. If he believes it would be profitable to him, perhaps." With a smile, she added, "I like the name Harold Saxon too. It fits you somehow."

"And I like how you say Harry. Thank you for escorting me to my new temporary home, Peri."

"Of course. Lothos requested it." She paused once more. "I have to say, however, that you are not quite what I expected."

"I can definitely say the same for you," he responded. His tone indicated a dual meaning to his words, though he didn't elaborate on that second meaning.

Her eyebrows crept up slightly. "Oh. What did you expect?"

"My previous experiences with humans have been, let's say, less than intellectually stimulating. You, Dr. Periwinkle Langford, are quite a marvelous specimen."

"Thank you," she answered with a smile.

He waited for a long moment, expecting her to return the favor he had bestowed upon her, as humans were a talkative bunch for the most part. When he didn't get what he was anticipating, he realized that he was going to have to bleed every little bit of information from this woman. On the one hand, it was completely irritating to say the least. On the other, he couldn't help but admire - just a little - the woman's resilience and caution. He had a feeling he was going to actually like this woman or at least tolerate her more than the other primitive apes.

"And what did you expect of me?"

She considered what to say and how to say it. "You indicated you were in an 'eye' and in pain at first. Then, once you were moved, you were in a rather... limited sensory location. Thus, your rather supercilious manner was likely a result of those environments. I now find you quite reasonable and solicitous, which from our past interactions I did not expect."

He grinned at her words. "So, you found me completely arrogant and belittling, did you? Well... I'm glad that I have the opportunity to continue to show you otherwise. I can be extremely charismatic and intellectually stimulating."

"I'm beginning to see that," she agreed. She was finding the wordplay between them to be quite interesting.

"So... what other loquacious words do you want to use to test my level of competence?" he posed with a wide grin.

With a laugh she shook her head. "You've already shown me that your ability in language is quite impressive. I think plainly speaking would be more... enjoyable at this point."

"Certainly less complicated," he concurred. He once again looked at the living quarters that had been arranged for him. "I would like something to eat and some time to rest. I haven't slept in what feels like a lifetime."

The change of conversation took Peri for surprise. "Yes. Of course. What would you like? I'll have it made right away."

He strolled over to the fireplace and appeared to be examining it as he spoke. "I'm an omnivore just like most creatures in the universe," he told her before turning and giving her a broad grin. "Surprise me."

She nodded but asked, "You don't have any allergies, do you? I'd hate to poison you right after bringing you back into the world."

"Just keep human medicines away from me and you should do fine in preventing that from happening," he assured her. "As for food allergies... well, this is a new body for me. Don't know the answer to that question just yet."

Peri smiled. "I'll steer clear from the most common."

"Mangos and peppermint maraschino cherries," the Master stated abruptly, just as Peri was about to turn to leave.

"What?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

He blinked for a moment. "I think I like mangos and peppermint maraschino cherries." He grimaced slightly. "Though why I would like something that sickly sweet is beyond me at the moment. It just... sounds good."

With a small laugh, she stated, "Then I'll figure a way to work them into your first meal." She turned and walked out of the room.

As the woman closed the door, the lights in the room dimmed slightly. "Less than an hour in this world and you're already hitting on my servants."

The Master looked around the room for a moment. "I see you've been spying on me." He tucked his hands into the pockets of the robe he wore.

"This is my Institute. I can be anywhere I want. My employees know that. It's part and parcel of their job."

"So, absolutely no privacy whatsoever," the Time Lord translated. "I must say, you hide the cameras well. Watching from your little office somewhere, are you?"

"Who needs an office?" Lothos asked. "My life is now along electromagnetic pathways."

"Of course, it is. But you must have a... central core of some sort. Anyway, we are becoming distracted from the main issue. I assume you were spying for some particular reason otherwise you wouldn't have made your presence known to me."

"I didn't just bring you here from the kindness of my heart," the voice said, slightly sarcastically. "You did set some high expectations. I want to know how you will fulfill them."

"So, it's down to business, then, is it?" The Master paused for a moment. "You know... all this time and I haven't even seen myself yet."

"There's a mirror in the bedroom," Lothos said dryly. "Just get it over with."

The Gallifreyan hurried into the bedroom to take a peek. "Not bad. Quite a handsome devil. In fact, I'd say I was... a lady-killer." He grinned broadly as if he had just told a hysterical joke.

"I'm glad I don't have that to worry about anymore."

"I think you're missing out," the Master told him, jumping onto the bed. "Anyway... business. I suspect you want payment for rescuing me from the Eye of Harmony."

"That would be a start."

"A start? I believe I agreed to share some of my knowledge of time travel with you in exchange for my release. I get the distinct feeling, however, that you want something more from me."

"That is why we need to lay out the groundwork. I did spend a great deal of my resources to help you out of your 'situation.' Don't you think that I deserve an equitable settlement?"

The Master examined his fingernails for a brief moment. "I suppose I could add a few things to the payment. Within reason, of course. But I do expect a few simple necessities."

"Such as?"

He gestured at himself. "Well, a wardrobe wouldn't be too out of place, would it? Some essential sundries to make myself suitable for the public?"

"That I can help you with. If you'll get with Charles Holiday after our talk and let him know what you want, he will get it for you. Money in this case is not an obstacle." The electronic equivalent of a grin sounded through the speakers.

"Really. How about a private lab, then?"

"That can be arranged. A team of scientists as well."

The Master sat up in his bed. "Seriously? My own lab? Just like that?"

With an annoyed huff, the disembodied voice responded. "As I said before, honored guests are treated well. Those I do not honor find my hospitality to be severely different."

The Time Lord gave a slight grin. "I think I'm going to like it here. What exactly did you want from me, I mean other than my formidable knowledge of space-time?"

"When you were with Peri, you spoke of a nemesis. One that deserves defeat. I, too, have a thorn in my side and I need your help to erase him from time."

"I see," the Master cooed. "You want a partnership. I help you get rid of your little problem, you help me get rid of mine, and you benefit with my superior intelligence."

"Let's just say that we both benefit from the gifts we bring to the table, Harry."

"My name is the Master, as I know you are aware," he corrected him.

"Remember, I was the one that pulled you out of your hell. I've not called any man Master."

"That is my name," the Gallifreyan stated firmly as he hopped off the bed and headed into the living room. "And I am not a man. I am a Time Lord. To even suggest that I in any way resemble the human species is an insult." He noted the bar on the other end of the room. Going over, he poured himself a scotch on the rocks and took a gulp of it.

"Time Lord? That's rather a grand title for yourself, isn't it? Of course, I guess it would fit with the general theme of wishing to be called Master. That might be fine to expect from my servants but not from me."

The alien glared at the ceiling. "It is my species."

"I've never heard of you," said Lothos, his voice providing the wisp of a shrug.

"Doesn't surprise me, coming from the one of the few intelligent beings on a Level Five planet in a backward sector of the Mutter's Spiral," the Master stated derogatorily.

Feeling that somehow he'd been insulted, Lothos bristled. The lights dimmed as he huffed. "Remember, you are in _my_ compound and you're not exactly in the position to dictate terms." He made a small chuckle. "Did you really think I'd pull you out of your situation if I wasn't able to put you back?"

The Master's head tilted slightly at the computer's reaction. "My apologies if you felt insulted. Believe me, I would never do any such thing. I just happened to have visited your world several times before and I know that intelligence, such as yourself and a small handful of humans, is a rare thing indeed. You should take it as a compliment that I consider you a remarkable creature. As for dictating terms, I wouldn't think of doing so. I prefer to be addressed by my name, just as any other being would. You wouldn't like it if I suddenly decided to call you Georgie Porgie or such."

The lights in the room dimmed slightly. If Lothos had eyes, they would have narrowed. "How do I know it is truly your name?"

"You don't," the Master admitted. "But as you said, you can easily just put me back where you found me if I'm a naughty boy. I have no reason to hide myself from you, not if I want this particular incarnation to last more than five minutes."

Lothos considered that. "True." The next word was said in a low tone as if hard to state. "Master."

"Good!" the Master crowed, his tone almost like that of a parent complimenting a child. "I'm glad we've come to an agreement. Now, as for this partnership you're proposing, I assume that you will incorporate my presence within your institution to avoid any undue attention to my sudden appearance. I, for one, would prefer to, as you say, stay under the radar." He took a swallow of the scotch in his hand. "Oh, and I would prefer that all of your servants address me by my proper name, unless, of course, we're in public. In which case, I will resume with the alias of Harold Saxon. I'm finding that I'm growing rather fond of that alias."

"Yes. You will be incorporated in as my partner. The title of CEO would suit you, I think. I will also make sure that the others know your name and use it." He figured that by doing so, his servants would not be as surprised at his using it.

"You're giving me Peri's job? Don't you think she might be just a tad upset about that?"

"Peri knows not to question my decisions. She knows the consequences of doing so." Lothos would have smirked if he'd had lips, knowing that the Master's role of CEO would keep him in the public eye and thus allow him to keep better watch over him.

"Still, seems a bit unfair to just knock her down from such a position. Where would she go from there?"

"Well, if what I saw was any indication, being your second would suit her just fine."

The Master considered that. "I could definitely use a competent assistant, both as CEO and in my lab. Someone I can count on. What exactly does the Prometheus Institute do? More importantly, what do people think the Prometheus Institute is?"

"The Prometheus Institute, as far as the public is concerned, is a charitable organization. Peri has been my CEO because having a 'recluse' in charge seems to upset the public. However, what they see is not the full story. My servants do my bidding regardless of whether they are in the public eye or in the complex. And my bidding is to manipulate reality to assure that I shall take my rightful place as supreme leader of the world."

The Master just smiled at the entity's words, though there was no humor in his eyes. "Of course having a recluse as CEO upsets the public. Humans start becoming suspicious if there is something 'secret' about a charitable organization. They start wondering if the funds are actually going to charity instead of lining the boss' pockets. Doesn't matter if they're correct in their assumptions."

There was a grumble from the machine. "Meddling do-good humans. One I hate especially."

"Good! Hate is powerful." The Time Lord took a deep breath. "So... I manage the public front, make sure the funding keeps coming, and give you all I know about time and space." He tucked his free hand into his pocket as his ring finger of his other hand tapped out a rhythm on his glass of scotch. "And what do I get in return? I mean other than a suite and a change of clothes."

"What do you want?"

"The universe," the Master stated truthfully. "But since you are incapable of giving me such... I want the Doctor and everything that belongs to him."

"The Doctor? Any doctor or a specific one?"

The Master rolled his eyes. "A specific one! That's his name. The Doctor. He's a Time Lord as well. And I have no doubt, now that I am free, he will eventually find me which means I also want a means to hide from him until the time is right, preferably one that goes beyond this building. This suite is quite luxurious, it's true. And I'm extremely grateful for the telepathic dampening field you put around this building. But if I am to be CEO of the Prometheus Institute, I need to be able to go anywhere in the world without him being able to find me."

"What would you need to hide from him?" Lothos answered, ignoring the sarcastic response.

"An expanded telepathic dampening field, one that would cover the entire surface of the Earth." He waved a hand slightly. "Don't bother trying to work out the how. I already have the technicalities." He tapped his temple. "But I need the supplies and equipment to create the field."

With a studied voice that edged on impatience, the voice asked, "And those would be?"

"I'll provide a list. That's part of the reason why I want the lab. And those scientists? I'd like a few engineers in the mix, preferably some that have the slightest bit of competence."

The lights dimmed slightly again. "I wouldn't have any other type. At my project, you're competent or you're gone. _All _the way gone."

"Oh, how very melodramatic of you," the Master smirked slightly. "So, we have an agreement, then?"

"Yes. An agreement."

As they finished, there was a slight knock on the door.

Lothos spoke. "Your dinner has arrived. I'll leave you and your second to discuss strategies." He paused. "You'll likely want some privacy for those late night sessions."

"And for me having to explain I've taken her job from her," the Master commented with a hint of a smile.

Lothos's voice showed he was in on the joke. "There is that." The lights brightened perceptively as the disembodied consciousness left the room.

The Gallifreyan gave a hint of a chuckle as he finished his drink, setting the glass down before going to the door and opening it. He smiled at Peri, who waited patiently beside a room servant and a cart holding his dinner. "What do you know? Dinner and dessert," he leered, looking Peri's eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_July 2004_

Steve Milton clearly didn't like the project he had been assigned. Not only did it require every bit of his attention, he didn't see what the purpose was to create something that would "dampen the psychic field." What a bunch of ridiculous mumbo jumbo. Everyone knew psychic ability was a crock.

Harold Saxon - a megalomaniac that insisted on being called "the Master" - had convinced Lothos that this was a high priority project. Milton had been pulled off of the previous project, developing a supercomputer for storing and analyzing multiple data streams in connected relativistic detail. It pissed him off that another engineer would get the kudos for completing that project.

He'd put one of his brightest assistants, Thom Canterbury, on the dampening field generator team. Thom had worked for the Prometheus Institute for the past five years and generally had a good track record. This project, though, was definitely slow going. They'd been able to build a massive free standing generator, a far cry from the portable unit that "Crazy Saxon" wanted.

Now this "Master" was going to come and inspect the project that was set in motion two months before. He really hoped that the bozo would take it as it stood and let him get back to more important things.

"All right. Show me what you've got," the Master ordered as he marched into the room, Dr. Langford following him in. Milton didn't get how such a brilliant scientist could have been demoted and then placed as Saxon's assistant. Langford deserved better than that, in his opinion. After all, she worked her way up to being CEO of P.I., just as he had worked his way into his position. If he had it his way, Peri would not only get her job back but they'd both be nicely situated in a private residence, preferably together.

"Thom," Milton called out. "Mr. Sa... the Master would like a report on the current status of the project."

The Gallifreyan raised an eyebrow as a tall middle aged man approached him with confidence. "Well?" he pressed, clearly wanting to get the heart of the matter.

The man nodded to a large mainframe. "We're doing an engineering run to determine the range of the field generated. It should expand the current range by 200 feet in any direction and strengthen the field making it more robust."

"Two hundred feet. In any direction," the Master repeated the man's words.

"Yes, sir."

"Great. Now I can go get my coffee at the Starbucks next door but I can't go see an opera because it's too damn far!" the Time Lord said, his voice growing louder and angrier as he spoke. "Where is the generator?"

"Mr. Master, this is the generator," Thom answered succinctly.

The Gallifreyan ignored his name being misspoken and stared at the mainframe to which the engineer had been gesturing. "That's the generator? I hope you mean that's the next temporary one to replace the one that is currently in use because if that's supposed to be the generator I requested to be made..."

"My understanding is this would be sufficient," the rather mousy man replied.

The Master pursed his lips, giving a look at Peri to show his discontent before turning to Canterbury again. "I am CEO of this organization. Do you really think that being confined within a 400 foot radius is sufficient for a man in my position? What about you? Would it be sufficient for you to have your whole existence being from here to just a few doors down?"

"I'm just working with what I've been provided."

A growl came from the alien as he pointed to the large machine. "That... is not what I ordered. It isn't even close to what I ordered. It doesn't even come close to the specifications I laid out. I need to be able to move freely throughout this planet without anyone... unwanted... being able to locate me or even know of my existence. And you expect me to remain within two hundred feet of this building?"

"Listen. All I know is, for the purpose this generator is supposed to address, this is the best that can be done."

Milton stepped in. "Thom, the Master has made it clear it isn't what he wants." He looked at the new CEO. "However, we've exhausted all possible design parameters so I'm not sure how to proceed in modifying the generator."

The Master sighed, clearly frustrated. "Stupid apes," he grumbled under his breath before looking into Milton's eyes. "I will draw up a schematic when I have the time. Until then, whose brilliant idea was that effective but insufficient monstrosity?"

Milton shrugged. "Thom's been the lead."

The Time Lord gave a disingenuous smile. "Thom... thank you for strengthening the signal and expanding it to the Starbucks but that just isn't good enough. You're off this project." He turned his head to Peri. "Dr. Langford, please ensure that Mr... what was your last name?"

"Canterbury... sir," Thom responded, his voice uncertain and clearly upset about being dismissed from the work.

"Dr. Langford, ensure that Mr. Canterbury is properly disciplined for his lack of imagination and failing to meet project requirements."

"Of course, sir," Peri replied succinctly.

"But... it's not my fault!" Thom protested abruptly. "I did what I was told!"

"You were supposed to provide what the customer wanted, Thom," Milton responded. "If Mr. Sa...the Master says you're off the project, you're off the project."

"But..."

"Mr. Canterbury, such persistent declarations of innocence in the face of guilt is quite... juvenile," the Master informed. "As the Americans say, you made the bed... you sleep in it." Turning without waiting for a response, he called over his shoulder. "Dr. Milton, keep that generator running anyway. I still want my daily coffee. Expect schematics by the end of the day. Make me something far more... worldly."

"Yes sir. With your schematics we should be able to meet your requirements."

"You had better," the Master put as a part shot while he and Peri left the lab. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her raise a radio to her lips and order the disciplining of Thom Canterbury, an act which brought a smile to his lips. Periwinkle Langford was proving to be a most efficient assistant. He could always rely on her getting any instruction that he gave her done in a timely manner and to have everything exactly how he wanted it when he wanted it. He was starting to think that she was probably the only competent human in the building. That thought, however, quickly flitted away as he reminded himself of the expanded field that Canterbury had given him.

"Care for a walk, Dr. Langford?" he questioned.

"Of course. Where do you have in mind?"

"Outside," the Master stated bluntly as they approached the lift. "You can leave the notebook and radio. I don't think we'll need them."

Peri nodded. She left both in a locked drawer at the reception desk upon reaching the lobby. "Would you like to get a coffee across the way?"

He gave her a slight grin. "Would it be as good as yours?"

She shrugged. "It's a Starbucks. Some people love them. Some say it's not that good. I guess it depends on your taste buds."

"I suppose we could try it. They require money, don't they?"

"Money is not a problem, sir. The Prometheus Institute has a contract with them. If there's a meeting, we often use them to supply coffee and pastries."

The Master just hummed at her words as he went through the main doors of the building, stopping immediately outside. A wide contented smile graced his lips as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, obviously enjoying the feel of the sun on his face. Inhaling loudly, he then sighed. "After two months of recycled air, it's good to finally be outdoors, even if it is to the scent of burning petrol, oil, and rubbish mixed in with grass and sap."

"After we get the coffee we can sit by the fountain if you'd like. I find that the water somehow cleanses the air."

He opened his eyes to look into hers for a moment, the smile still present. "You know, that does sound incredibly attractive."

She smiled. "I'm sorry our engineers haven't made more progress as of yet. I know staying in one spot must grate on you."

"The last two months have been like being in prison," he told her honestly as they started for the coffee shop. "From my calculations, I can't go further than the shop next to Starbucks, which is incredibly frustrating. But at least it's like being able to go into the courtyard rather than being in solitary confinement."

"You sound like this is something you've experienced firsthand."

He didn't answer her supposition, giving her own of his enigmatic smiles that said everything and yet nothing at all. They continued into the shop, the Master tucking his hands into his pockets as he read the menu. After a long moment, he frowned. "You humans make everything so complicated. Last time I was on this planet, a coffee came with milk and sugar. What in the name of the Medussa Cascade is a 'Frappuccino'?"

"It's a blended coffee drink."

"Blended? So they put coffee in a blender and then put it in a cup? What's the point in that? Bit pointless, isn't it? Doesn't change the coffee."

"It's a bit more than that. There's usually sugar, cream, and other flavorings involved."

"Sort of a lazy man's coffee with milk."

"Not exactly. I think you'd have to try one to get the gist of it."

"All right, then. Order me a Frappuccino," he instructed, finding a seat.

Peri went to the counter and order a simple Frappuccino and a vanilla latte for herself. Having retrieved them she went back to the table. "I think you will like the whipped cream on top."

He didn't comment on her words as she sat down. Picking up the cup, he took a big slurp before promptly grimacing, putting the coffee down with a slam as if it were a poisonous snake, causing icy liquid to slosh over the sides. "What the hell is that?!"

"It's a Frappaccino."

"It's cold and tastes like a sugar plantation!"

"As I said, you have to taste it to get the gist of it. I'm surprised that you dislike it given that you have a taste for peppermint maraschino cherries, which are far sweeter." She paused. "Perhaps if you want something less sweet, you might prefer..."

"What's that?" he interrupted, pointing to a glass sitting in front of a man reading a newspaper.

"I believe, based on the color it may be an espresso drink."

"Espresso?" he questioned with obvious glee. "As in Italian coffee? And it has whipped cream! I want one of those!"

Peri got up and with resignation responded, "I'll get you one."

The moment she went back to the counter to order, the Master eyed her vanilla latte with interest. Picking it up, he sniffed it before taking a tentative sip. Smiling slightly, he took another. "Not bad at all," he commented to himself as he continued to test taste the beverage.

A few minutes later, Peri returned with the espresso con panna. "They said this is just mildly sweet." She put the cup in front of him before reaching for her cup finding it empty. "Did you drink my coffee?" she asked with puzzlement.

"I was tasting it. It looked interesting."

"How many times did you taste it?"

"Six... maybe eleven times. Hard to keep track."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. I'll be right back. I need to get another one."

The Master just raised an eyebrow at her reaction before turning to the coffee that she had brought. This one, he decided with the first sip, was just right. Not very sweet and with a kick that would... what was the phrase? Put hair on your back... or your chest... or some other part of one's anatomy. Not that he found being hairy all that attractive. It reminded him of apes. Except for the head. Hair belonged on the head. In any case, if the phrase was true, he hoped that's where the hair would grow. He was very fond of his body the way it was. As long as the hair on his head didn't grow too long. He was never fond of the "hippie" look.

Peri returned with her second latte. "Are you enjoying that one?" she asked before quickly adding dryly, "Or would you like this one as well."

The Time Lord gave her a glare. "I only tasted it. You don't have to get snippy with me, Dr. Langford."

"Whatever."

He shook his head slightly. Sometimes his assistant could get the oddest moods. The only reason why he put up with her during times like this was that she was very good at her job. He doubted that anyone else could be as proficient as her. As for the coffee she brought him... "This drink is extremely good. So was that other one. Definitely hate Frappuccinos, though."

"I could tell," she said before sipping her drink. "Do you wish to sit by the fountain?"

"You mean, you can take these out? Well, that certainly would explain the paper cups. Does nobody use mugs anymore other than in offices?"

"Oh, yes. In shops that aren't catering to fast food sensibilities."

"Oh. McDoughlan's," he commented with a sneer.

"McDonald's," she corrected.

"I don't see how an airplane manufacturer has anything to do with inedible American food."

Peri found it hard not to roll her eyes. Instead she smiled sweetly. "McDonnell-Douglas has no relation."

"Human names," he huffed. "So confusing. You were saying something about the fountain?"

"Yes. It's a lovely day out. The fountain is on the other side of the Prometheus Institute, well within the field."

"All right, then," the Gallifreyan announced as he stood, cup in hand. "To the fountain."

Walking back to the building, the two went around the long way rather than cutting through the Institute, exploring the Master's new limits. Reaching the courtyard behind the building, the Time Lord straddled the edge of the fountain with his legs crossed, his pants leg only inches from the water as he cradled his newest discovery in cafe heaven. "This really is good," he commented cheerily.

"I'm glad you like it. I personally am not fond of espresso shots. I like the frothed milk in the lattes."

"Thus the attitude when I tasted your drink."

"You didn't _taste_ it; you _drank_ it. Every last drop."

"Don't over-exaggerate. There were a couple of drops left," he told her plainly.

She glared at him but didn't continue that conversation instead switching to the earlier situation. "You know, we need to find a replacement for Thom Canterbury." Her lips turned upwards cruelly. "And although it's a pain to find them, breaking them in can be... rewarding." The implication of her last word showed how much she enjoyed assuring that Lothos' desires were taken as second nature by his "employees."

A small smile played on his lips. "Breaking them in? Or just breaking them? From what I heard, orientation is extremely... rigorous."

"Well, it depends on one's goal as to how much breaking there is. Breaking them too far makes them useless as employees."

The Master considered her words for a moment. He certainly understood what she was talking about. There were times when his influence over others had an adverse effect on their minds, making them useless after a period of time. However, the right subject with just enough will to maintain sanity while being subservient to him made for a most excellent slave. He considered the woman before him. While he didn't really have any emotional attachment to Peri Langford - after all, she was just a stupid little ape - he was discovering that she was quite exceptional for her species. Unlike the other humans in the building he was trapped in, Periwinkle Langford actually used her brain and wasn't remiss in stating her opinion while, at the same time, being intelligent enough not to just go blabbing away regardless of the consequences. He knew that if he used the right motivations, he could have her eating out of his hand in no time at all and, what was more, he wouldn't mind having her around, unlike the other annoying creatures in the complex. Based on how she was willing to state her mind, he had no doubt she would be a great asset as an ally. He wondered if he could "influence" her as he had other humans. He decided to test that theory directly.

Putting his cup a few feet behind him on the edge of the fountain, he looked into Peri's eyes. "And exactly what does... breaking them involve?" he asked, putting a sultry tone to his voice.

"I use many techniques. It's as much psychological as it is physical."

He moved slightly closer to her. "I'm sure it is. But I'm more interested in details. Is it just pain but can there also be pleasure involved?"

"Well... yes. I mean... sometimes you bring the subject up to the point that the drop becomes that much more... intense," she said, curling her lips as if remembering such sessions.

"That isn't exactly what I mean," he told her, inching towards her. "What I mean is... psychologically... do you... get them to care about you?"

"If that's the best way to break them... yes. Sometimes it's better to have them hate me. Depends entirely on the subject."

"That's fascinating," he murmured, now close enough that it would be definitely considered breaking into her personal space. "Show me how you do it."

"You want to watch me break the new recruit in? It'll be quite a show. Lothos has several rooms with one way glass," she responded, avoiding looking at the Master and clearly more than a little uncomfortable with how close he was to her.

"Oh, I definitely want to see you at work," he replied with a lecherous grin. "I rather enjoy a good show. In fact... I'm absolutely certain it would be fantastic."

At his movement to an even closer proximity, Peri's respiration increased. The Master was triggering her desires in a way she had never felt before. Tightly swallowing, she pulled herself together as best she could before raising her head to look him in the eyes. "Mr. Saxon, I don't think it's appropriate for you to be this close to..."

The Master didn't allow her to finish her sentence. Grabbing her roughly by her shoulders, he forced his lips to meet hers, invading her mouth possessively with his tongue. Knowing that he now had her attention, he reinforced his control over her by pulling her against him close enough for him to wrap his arms around her to grope her ass. At the same time, he delved into her mind, projecting his will onto her subconscious.

Peri's first response, despite the attraction she'd had towards him before, was to fight back against such an assault. However she quickly found she was enjoying the feelings this man's actions brought to her. While she'd had relationships with men before, this was like nothing she'd ever experienced and she liked it. She liked it very much. She began to respond to him in kind and was confused when, almost immediately, he pulled away from her. Finding the ultimate response to his seduction was her now weakened knees, she reached out for support from the concrete underneath her. "I... I..." she began. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I just got bored," the Master answered as if it were the only answer to give her. His little experiment on her now finished for the time being, he turned to retrieve his coffee with the knowledge that he was well on his way to having her body and mind, if not soul.

She had blinked at his statement. He certainly hadn't seemed "bored." She was about to question his actions deeper when he complimented her.

"Although, I have to say, you do kiss rather well. For a human."

A certain relief crossed her face as this statement allowed her to regain her dignity. She figured that perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. The way she felt as he'd kissed her told her she might even be falling for him. As she considered how she could say the same about his kiss, she forced herself to refocus her thoughts. It would be completely unprofessional for her to be involved with a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her boss. Straightening her back, she put on the professional demeanor she maintained around him normally. "You have a meeting at three. We should probably think of getting back to the office."

Taking a sip of his now cold and nearly empty coffee, he nodded. "I suppose it is necessary."

She nodded. Taking the empty paper cups, she put them in a trash receptacle. "I'm glad we were able to spend some time outdoors. Today was an especially nice day."

He gave her a winning smile. "Yes, it was, wasn't it," he responded as if it were his presence that had made the day nice. Standing, he tucked his hands into his pockets. "Oh, the things I have to do to rule the world."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Cardiff, Wales_

_April 200_5

Once more, Captain Jack Harkness had to deal with the major changes that seemed to go with his tenure at Torchwood. While angst seemed to abound in his current line of work, things had been more or less stable since the Millennium disaster that had brought him into the leadership role he held. Then, last month, one of the team had been killed while out on patrol. He'd been ambushed by weevils and his backup hadn't arrived in time due to a major gas main break that had tied up the area with detours. She had been devastated and blamed herself for the death. Jack had done his best to show her that such things were bound to happen and that it just wasn't her fault. When she told him after a week of his attempts to comfort her that she couldn't handle the job or the guilt anymore and that she was leaving, he'd slightly panicked. He told himself it wasn't because of their 'extracurricular' relationship that he wanted her to stay, and to some extent that was true - she was a talented medical officer - but truth be said, he knew it would break his heart when she left. He did convince her to give him a month so he could find both their replacements.

For the past two weeks he'd been trying to replace the fallen comrade and his now-departing medical officer. He was searching through various databases when a call came through from America. It was from a rather highly placed senator who had shared a wild weekend with him during one of the senator's fact finding missions to Wales. The ex-Time Agent's mouth curled with pleasure at the memory. Geoff had certainly known how to filibuster that night. Now, he was asking Jack to look at a project the American government was about to drop. Geoff didn't go into details about the why he was calling Jack instead of Torchwood proper, but he did tell of a top secret time travel project that was about to go under and that he should expect a call from a man named Albert Calavicci. Again, there was no explanation as to how this Mr. Calavicci would be able to get in contact with him, especially since Torchwood, whether regular or renegade, was top-secret itself.

As Jack hung up the phone, he wondered what some government bigwig in a different country wanted with him and his organization. If they had wanted to deal with Torchwood directly, wouldn't they have gone with the main branch in London, not his own renegade branch in Cardiff? His people and London's Torchwood hadn't seen eye-to-eye since New Year's Day 2000, when he broke direct ties with Torchwood proper - one day after his boss killed the entire Cardiff team and then himself. Of course, Jack had been spared from the insane rampage. After all, it wasn't as if he would have stayed dead. He'd told the organization that he'd handle things his own way in Wales, thank you very much, and it had worked as long as he didn't rock the boat.

Still, the question remained... why his Torchwood?

He pushed back in his chair. From what he'd heard, this project wasn't something he could let fall to the wayside... if nothing else than due to the parallel hybrid computer. Such a artificial intelligence wouldn't be common for another fifty years and, with the changes that were coming, having that type of computing power would be extremely helpful. Besides, he could use the computer for some of his own private work away from the eyes of his current team.

He pulled up his browser and entered the name. "Hmm. Admiral Albert Calavicci..." He read through the description. One of the paragraphs caught his eye and he read, "Started 'Quantum Space', a defense contracting company with Dr. Samuel Beckett in 1991." He tilted his head. "Where have I heard that name before?" He again hit a few keys. "_That_ Dr. Samuel Beckett?" He confirmed that the doctor had been born in 1953. "No wonder there are so many temporal hits from that time on. His experiment only allowed him to travel in his own lifetime," he recalled from his basic training as a Time Agent. One of the first things you learned in the history of time travel was about Beckett's project. After all he was the father of human time travel. Still, there were a few blips outside that time frame that fit the same profile which now intrigued him more. "That's very interesting. So, the partner of the legendary Samuel Beckett is going to call little ol' me." He took a deep breath. He knew this could be very tricky. After all, there were rules when it came to messing with timelines. If he wasn't careful, he'd cause one hell of a paradox and one thing he knew for certain... paradoxes were a bitch.

Pressing a button on the intercom box sitting on his desk, he spoke into it. "Tosh, I'm expecting a call from the United States. Send it right through when it comes in."

When the call came through, Jack had suggested that the retired Admiral should come to Cardiff. The Admiral told him that he'd prefer to meet in Albuquerque since he didn't want to be too far away from his base due to manpower issues. Jack had agreed. It had been awhile since he'd visited the American southwest and he had a feeling this meeting was going to be an important one. Having his own manpower issues and knowing his team as he did, he knew that Suzie needed to remain in Cardiff to keep things running. He'd told Tosh to set up the travel arrangements and let her know she'd be going with him. He needed her expertise with computers to assure that there could be an interface with his Torchwood.

The meeting with the Admiral having been set up, he had to find those new recruits for Cardiff sooner than later. Having had little success on his own since he began his search, he reluctantly contacted Torchwood London and they told him they'd send over one of their operatives that had been requesting a transfer. In the meantime, they'd send the man's vitae.

He picked up the printout of the file they'd sent via secure email. "Marcus Erikson," he read, allowing the sound to roll off his tongue. Everything looked to be in order but there was something about the situation that just didn't sit well with him. He figured it was at least partly, if not mostly, due to the fact he was having to play ball with London again, something he tried to avoid at all costs. Still, he sent a reply back that he'd like to speak with the man the next morning.

Having been in his office for the last couple of hours, he got up and went into the Hub to stretch his legs. He saw Tosh at her usual post in front of her computer terminal. "Have any problems setting up our travel arrangements to the U.S.?" he asked.

"All arrangements have been made," she replied, her eyes focused on her computer screen. "Spoke with some woman with an attitude you could cut with a butter knife but we came up with a reasonable itinerary." She shook her head. "I still don't understand what interest you have in this project. Sounds completely outside of our scope." She tucked her head slightly. "I mean..." She sighed, obviously feeling ill at ease. "Are you sure you want me to go with you? Suzie would be much more suitable."

Jack gave her a soft smile. "Tosh... trust me on this. If we decide to take them on, they have some very cool equipment you'll want to get familiar with."

"But Suzie is the expert with alien technologies and weapons..." she started to protest.

"Nothing at this project is alien and, I can assure you, the founder of the project would never allow his tools to be used as weapons. The guy wasn't exactly on the Pentagon's list of hawks. I think this Admiral Calavicci helped grease the wheels to get this project started but I could be wrong about that." He chuckled slightly. "No, the only weapons you'll find there are standard issue U.S. military and that's for security."

Tosh exhaled slowly. Jack understood she didn't like having to leave her comfort zone of Cardiff and her gadgets but he was the boss. If he told her to go to a foreign country with him, she'd do it. That didn't mean she had to like it and her body language told him she didn't.

The rest of the day, Jack switch gears to look for the second recruit. Once more he was on duty through the night and was thankful that everything was quiet. The next morning, he was having a cup of coffee in the Hub when the intercom from the shop front buzzed. "Hey, Tosh? Is Jack around? I can't reach him in his office."

"Here, Suzie," Jack put in. "What's up?"

"Your nine o'clock appointment is here."

"Send him down," he instructed his second. He gave Tosh a half-hearted smile. "Hope he isn't all 'Queen and country' or we're going to have a mess on our hands. I better get the Retcon ready... just in case."

Tosh nodded her agreement as Jack walked to his office. A few minutes later, a rather striking young man in his mid-twenties walked in. The man shot Tosh a brilliant smile that somehow wasn't as genuine as the one's Jack gave her. She bit at her lip and turned her head away, embarrassed by her own thoughts. That wasn't fair. She didn't even know the guy. Perhaps she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Hello. Where do I find..." He looked down at a paper in his hand, "... Captain Harkness?"

"You found him," Jack informed the newcomer, standing at his office door, his hands tucked into his trousers. "And you're Marcus Erikson."

"Yes, sir," Erikson responded, moving towards the office, his hand extended.

Jack didn't bring up his, keeping in control of the situation. "Come on in and have a seat, Marcus," he instructed, turning to enter the office.

The hand came down with an almost imperceptible frown. "Yes, sir." He followed the chief in and sat down in one of the chairs waiting for Jack to speak.

Jack didn't say a word as he moved around the office, pulling out a piece of technology and setting it on the desk. "You don't mind if I use this, do you? Don't worry. It's not dangerous. It's just a lie detector, best one on the planet. Just want to make sure that everything is on the up and up."

Marcus looked at the equipment with a bit of trepidation but nodded his assent slowly. "Um... no... of course not."

Finishing setting up the equipment, Jack sat in his chair, aiming the device at Erikson's eyes. "So..." he started, giving the man a smile. "I read in your file that you've been with London for... seven years, is it?"

"Yes. I started right out of public school. Torchwood sent me to university as well to round me out."

"Bit young to get pulled in," Jack commented. "How do you like it?"

This time the frown was more pronounced. "Torchwood Institute or the London branch? They're two different questions."

"Both, actually," Jack replied. "They're one and the same, aren't they?"

"Not really. I mean, the concept behind Torchwood isn't that bad although it needs to be modified a bit. When Queen Victoria instituted it, it was in the middle of a very puritan age. Things need to be looked at in a new light, in my opinion." He paused somewhat shocked at his candor. "Not that I can't play by the rules. The fact that I've been with London for the past seven years shows that."

Jack nodded slightly at his answer, already seeing potential. "So... you don't really believe in the notion that everything alien is a threat to the British Empire."

"Well, to be honest, there really hasn't been much of an empire since World War II now, has there?" Marcus started but stopped suddenly, realizing that what he said could be seen by some as a rather traitorous statement. He switched gears slightly. "But no, I don't believe everything alien is evil. Take this Doctor bloke. Torchwood has been out to get him for years but, from my understanding, he's an operative for UNIT. If he was a threat like we learned in our training, they wouldn't work with him, would they?"

"I suppose not. Then again, things sometimes aren't as they seem."

"That's true," the interviewee conceded.

"So, what do you think we should be doing with all this alien stuff we dig up?"

"I guess sort of what NASA does with things. The technology is used to make new technologies and the like. At least for those things that are safe for humanity. The really dangerous stuff should be locked up... or possibly even destroyed."

"That isn't Torchwood's mandate."

"But again, Torchwood's mandate was conceived by a queen over one hundred years ago. Things change. We've changed. And who knows, it might be necessary to have some of that technology utilized in the future for the sake of humanity's continued survival."

The Captain just gave him a smile at his statement. "One more question... Can you make coffee?"

"The best, although my tea is better."

Jack grimaced comically. "Typical Londoner," he teased. "Okay, I lied. One last question. When can you start?"

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Albuquerque, New Mexico_

_May 2005_

Jack and Tosh followed the waitress to the private room in the Mexican restaurant. The establishment was obviously not chosen to impress but rather was likely chosen due to the set up of this room. Jack knew that they would be able to discuss things and not be overheard. That was one credit he'd give to Admiral Calavicci. He understood the need for discretion. As they entered the room, he took the lead to the only occupied table.

"You must be Admiral Calavicci. Captain Jack Harkness. My colleague Toshiko Sato," he introduced.

Al stood, admiring the woman next to the Captain before looking at the person who had made the introductions. With a pleasant smile on his face, Jack watched the other man closely to see if he could read him. The retired Admiral was setting a scene based on the dress whites he was wearing and Jack's smile broadened at the sight. The outfit had probably served him well in the past, especially when there was something to negotiate.

"Yes, I'm Admiral Calavicci. Good to meet you, Captain Harkness." He turned to the woman. "Ms. Sato, so very nice to meet you." He gave her a winning smile.

Tosh bowed slightly at the Admiral's words, shaking his hand. "And you, Admiral Calavicci," she replied.

"So... Admiral..." Jack started, sitting at the table, making sure that his vintage World War II Royal Air Force overcoat wasn't tugged on... two could play the authoritative costume game. "You appear to have a problem that your government thinks we can help you with. Given that this is the United States and my... organization... is focused on Great Britain at the moment, I'm not sure what you want from us."

Al nodded. "I understand that. I hear that your organization is interested in potentially unique technologies. I think we may have a fit in that realm."

"Oh, really," Jack answered, his eyes focused on Al. He smiled slightly. "So, what exactly is it that you think we would be interested in?"

Al returned the grin and stated simply. "What if I told you that time travel was truly possible?"

Jack's smile got wider. "Tell me something new, Admiral." He was amused that his nonplussed attitude obviously surprised Al.

"What?"

"Time travel isn't as unusual as you may think, although it will take some time before it becomes common." Seeing the confusion on Al's face, he leaned forward. "Now, what is it that you want from us?"

"Well, we've got a little problem with our project and I need to keep it running. Our government is ready to let it die. I can't let that happen."

Jack rested his head on his left hand, as if studying the man before him. "Why not?"

The Admiral hesitated for a moment, clearly ill at ease with what he was about to reveal. "Dr. Beckett had an accident on the first leap. He's now stuck in a time loop and we haven't been able to retrieve him. If the project shuts down, he'll be lost for good."

Jack shrugged slightly. "So what? Another scientist bites off more than he can chew. Happens all the time. Risks like that come with the job."

"Jack..." Tosh started, plainly stunned by his seeming lack of compassion.

Jack raised his hand to silence her, his eyes never wavering from Al's. "Why should I care what happens to Dr. Beckett? Why should you care?"

"Dr. Beckett's experiment was absconded by... well, to be honest, we're not sure. Sam and I like to call it 'God, Fate, Time, or Whatever.' In any case, this force has been putting Sam into other people's aura's and having him change time for the better."

Jack took a deep breath and stood up. "We're wasting our time," he announced.

"Jack!" Tosh exclaimed, standing with him.

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to the bullshit this guy's dishing out."

Al stood up abruptly. "It's not bullshit. I can prove it. At least I can show you the data that our parallel hybrid computer has compiled detailing all the leaps to date."

Tosh's head pulled up. "A parallel hybrid computer? I thought those hadn't gone beyond a prototype." She stopped speaking when she saw the look on Jack's face.

Jack smiled inwardly. It was good that his team could read what to do without prompting. He turned to Al with a glare. "Oh, I'm quite sure that you can explain all the ins and outs of your project in complete and accurate detail, Admiral. And I'm sure your data is quite accurate. But you still haven't answered my question. Why should you care if Project Quantum Leap goes under?"

Al sighed. "Sam Beckett changed my life in more ways than I can tell. I owe him, Captain."

"Just owe?" Jack questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Listen. Let me show you what I want to show you. It will explain a lot."

Jack leaned forward, his hands supporting his weight on the table. "Apparently, Admiral, you are thick. So let me put it very, very plainly." He looked into his eyes. "Who is Beckett to you? I owe a lot of people myself but you are going out on a limb for this guy. Why?"

Upon being called "thick," Al's eyebrows rose in surprise. It was clear that he wasn't often insulted by anyone, much less someone whose apparent rank was lower than his. But as Jack demanded a response, his brows dropped. He took slow breath. "If not for Sam Beckett, I wouldn't have my life. My wife, my children, my grandchildren. Without Sam, I would probably be dead by now or at best living in the bottom of a bottle. Is that clear enough for you?"

Jack's eyes softened and a genuine smile graced his lips. "So... best friend, I'm guessing."

"Yeah. The best. Sam Beckett has helped so many. He deserves better than being left to spend his life in a time loop with no way home. I know there's a way to bring him home, if we just had more time."

"Why didn't you just say so in the first place?" Jack berated, returning to his seat. "Of course, I'll help you."

Al was shocked by this quick turnaround, but he barely let it show. He obviously hadn't expected such honesty would get him anywhere. "You'll help us?" Suddenly Al's suspicion kicked in. "How?"

"Don't worry about the how. Just take the help while it's there," Jack told him. "Motivation is everything, Admiral. I needed to know that before I agreed to anything. But I got it out of you. Saw it in your eyes. Desperation, friendship... even love." He shook his head slightly. "I couldn't agree to help you with a potentially dangerous experiment without knowing why you were so desperate to get Dr. Beckett back."

"Okay, so what's next?"

Jack looked at him plainly. "Terms of the agreement. I'm giving you the financial means of keeping your project going. And everything has a price."

"And what's the price?"

"Unlimited access to your computer," Jack replied. "Just to crunch a few numbers every once in a while." He looked over to his colleague, seeing her obvious desire to get in on this. "Tosh will likely be with me on those trips. Oh, and regular updates on the project's progress. Other than that, you run it the way you want. As long as I like what I see. You'll have to cut down your personnel to the bare minimum. Hate to put that many people out of work but I'm not the United States government and I don't have a 2.1 billion dollar budget to hand you on a platter. Five hundred million should do it, though. Enough to keep the wheels turning and the workers fed." Seeing Al's face drop, he gave him a slight grin. "That's a better deal than you're getting with the Feds. They were only going to give you two hundred fifty million."

Al considered the man's words. It plainly wasn't what he wanted, but he was on the ropes and knew it. "Okay." There was a pause. "How could you know how much the Feds were willing to give us? Who told you?"

"I have my resources." Jack leaned forward, sympathy in his eyes. "Listen. I know what you're up against. I've been there myself. If I could get you more, I would. But my finances aren't unlimited. I honestly do sympathize." He took a breath. "So... where's your project?"


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Al, Jack, and Tosh had finished their lunch while Al gave them a few specifics about entering the project. Mostly, it was just directions of how to get there and what they would need to process through security before they could actually talk about anymore of the particulars. Thus, it was two more days until Captain Jack and Tosh Sato actually walked into the Control Room with Al beside them. "This is it," he stated. "The heart of Dr. Beckett's Time Journey."

"Wow!" Tosh exclaimed, hurrying over to the hybrid computer situated so predominantly in the room. "This is incredible! How long did it take to build this? How many calculations per minute can it do? Oh, I'd love to see its central processing unit."

Jack chuckled at Tosh's excitement. "I think Tosh is in love."

"Who is this person, Admiral?" the computer asked haughtily. "I don't show my CPU to just anyone, you know."

Upon hearing the computer speaking, Tosh covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing with joy. "A highly advanced artificial intelligence unit as well. Oh, you are gorgeous!"

Jack's chuckle turned into a laugh. "Correction. Tosh is _definitely _in love."

"Well!" Ziggy glowed, obviously pleased that this human was able to see her highly intrinsic value. "Finally, someone that appreciates me for who I am."

"Can it, Ziggy. Don't let the praise get to you. You're still just a bucket of bolts to me," Al answered.

Jack walked around the room, looking carefully. He smiled slightly. "You know, I never thought I'd ever be here, though I always wondered what it would be like." Al raised his eyebrows at his words, looking at him with obvious confusion. Before he could form a coherent sentence, Jack continued. "So, where and when is Dr. Beckett now?"

Ziggy spoke up, interrupting the three-way conversation. "I don't think we've been properly introduced."

Jack turned towards the console, a bright, almost lecherous smile on his face. "Captain Jack Harkness. And I believe your name is Ziggy...or so the Admiral told me earlier. Pleased to meet you."

"And she is?" Ziggy asked, referring to Tosh, who was still walking around the room, looking at all the equipment.

"Toshiko Sato," Jack replied. He nodded towards his colleague. "You'll have to forgive her. She tends to get a little wrapped up when she sees cool equipment. Like a kid in a candy store."

"Apparently," the computer answered shortly.

Al called out to his electronic colleague. "Ziggy, just tell us where and when Sam is. Captain Harkness is going to help keep us funded so we can continue to try and retrieve Sam."

"Dr. Beckett is not anywhere or when. He is currently in limbo."

Tosh looked over, hearing the pronouncement. "Limbo?"

"Yes," Al told her. "We're not sure where Sam is between leaps. He never remembers the specifics and we can't actually track him to a time or place. Sam once said it was likely due to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle."

"The more precisely one variable is known, the less precisely the other can be known," Jack nodded at Al's response. "Which means that, basically, until he actually pops up on your radar, he's unavailable for a bit of an introduction. That's okay. Probably better this way. Timelines and all."

"You can actually calculate where and when Dr. Beckett is in time and space while he isn't in this 'limbo'?" Tosh questioned. "How accurate are your calculations? How long does it take for you to get a fix on his location?"

Al turned to the young woman. "It depends on a number of factors like how cooperative the leapee is."

"Leapee?"

"The person Dr. Beckett trades places with until he transfers out of his or her aura," Jack explained, remembering, once again, the history lessons from his Time Agent training.

Al turned quickly to the tall smiling man. "How would you know that?"

"I do a lot of reading," Jack sidestepped as he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets.

Before Al could answer, Ziggy's glow changed. "Dr. Beckett is leaping now."

This time, Al went into action. "Excuse me. You'll both need to stay out of the way for a bit." He called out, "What do you have, Ziggy?"

The computer's honeyed tones were all business. "Dr. Beeks has entered the Waiting Room and is ascertaining what information she can. I'll have a report shortly."

"Are you getting any bioreadings?"

"Dr. Beckett appears to be calm."

"Good. He doesn't need a leap in like that last one."

"What happened the last time?" Jack questioned.

"He leapt in during a mugging." Al paused. "He was the one being mugged."

"Ouch." The head of Torchwood Two winced slightly at the thought. "No. Not a good place to suddenly find yourself."

"No," Al agreed.

Ziggy broke in. "Dr. Beckett is currently inhabiting the aura of a teenage girl, name and location unknown. Apparently she was on a date with her boyfriend at the movies when she was displaced."

Al chuckled. "He's going to hate that."

Jack grinned widely. "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

Al was taken slightly aback by the statement. "That wouldn't be a good idea." He tilted his head. "Ziggy? Call Verbeena and have her show the Captain and Ms. Sato to the Waiting Room." He turned back to Jack. "There's an observation window. You won't be able to go into the room."

"Of course, Admiral," Ziggy replied to the order.

"And where will you be?" asked Tosh.

Picking up the handlink, Al nodded to the door to the Imaging Chamber. "Doing my job helping Sam to get through another leap. You'll excuse me?" With that, he went through the door and into the strange word of quantum time travel.

A few moments later, a tall, black woman walked into the room. "You must be Captain Harkness and Toshiko Sato?" she asked.

Jack watched Al as he walked into the Imaging Chamber and then turned when a feminine voice caught his attention. "Yes, we are," Jack told her, taking her hand. "And you are?"

The woman smiled. "Dr. Verbeena Beeks, staff psychiatrist. Will you please follow me?"

"Anywhere you want, Verbeena Beeks," the Captain told her, kissing her hand before allowing her to guide them.

Blinking slightly at the chivalrous actions, she took them to an area that looked like a solid wall until she pushed a button, revealing a one way mirror. "What you are seeing is the aura of Dr. Beckett. The person in the room is actually a fifteen year old teenage female."

"No way," Tosh said. "The person in that room is a man. You can't expect us not to believe what our eyes are telling us."

"He's a bit of handsome, isn't he?" Jack commented teasingly at Tosh's disbelief.

"Not bad, I'll give you that," Tosh agreed. She gave him another look. "That outfit doesn't leave much to the imagination either."

"That outfit is a Fermi suit," Verbeena explained. "It was invented by Dr. Beckett to allow him to travel within his own lifetime." She gave a rueful look. "That particular one is the 484th we've had to make."

Jack just smiled widely. "In order for Dr. Beckett to fit in with the year he's leaped into, he has to look like whomever he traded places in time with. He wouldn't be able to function without suspicion if he looked like himself. Thus the need for trading auras. As for the Fermi suit, basically, just as he puts on the clothing of the person whose aura he inhabits, the leapee does the same with his attire."

"Yes, Captain Harkness. That is how it works." Having seen all that they could, Verbeena explained that it might be a little time before Al could see them again. As had been planned when Al had told her about the visitors the day before, she took them to their quarters. "I'm afraid the rooms are a little Spartan, but they are comfortable," she explained.

"I've slept in far worse," Jack told her as Tosh took a look at the room she had been given.

"It will be fine. Thank you," Tosh assured Verbeena.

"If you need anything, just ask. Ziggy keeps a monitoring eye on the project." Seeing Tosh's surprise and possible fear, she explained, "Don't worry. Dr. Beckett programmed her to be discreet and your privacy is sacrosanct." She didn't tell them that if Ziggy learned of something that would be dangerous to the project or another person, that particular constraint would be overridden.

"Thank you again," the computer expert stated as Verbeena started for the door.

Jack followed her, giving Tosh a smile and a "good night" as he and Verbeena left the room. "So, where's my room, then?" he questioned.

"Right next to Tosh's. There's also a small alcove down the hall. Sort of a rec room. TV and DVD player. That sort of thing."

"Bit of home away from home," he noted. "Do all the staff live here in the complex?"

"Well, we all have rooms here. The housing complex is close but sometimes, during a leap, even that's too far to go."

He nodded slightly, noting to himself that the housing complex may be one of the first cuts he'd have to make to the project's expenses. Walking into his room, he looked around and smiled slightly. "Comfy," he commented, turning towards Verbeena. "If I had a bar, I might offer you a nightcap."

Verbeena smiled. "I wouldn't be able to imbibe. I'm on the clock right now and will be until Sam leaps out again." She opened the door once more. "And I must get back. Have a pleasant evening, Captain."

"Good night, Verbeena," he bade farewell to the psychiatrist, watching her leave. He waited for five minutes before exiting it once again. Going over to Tosh's room, he knocked on her door.

The young Japanese woman answered. She had changed into a pair of pajamas in preparation for bed. "Okay, Jack. You hardly told me anything about this place on the way here. What's going on?"

He didn't say a word as he walked into the room and closed the door. "I think it's pretty obvious. Project Quantum Leap is a top-secret time travel project developed by Dr. Samuel Beckett, one that's about to collapse before its time unless we help it along a little."

"So you believe what they're saying? That the man we saw is really a teenage girl? That Admiral Calavicci is helping him... what do they call it... leap?" She paused. "I have to admit, the computer is pretty cool, if it's really what they say it is."

"It is," Jack told her seriously. "Everything you heard is absolutely one hundred percent true." He frowned slightly. "Why are you so skeptical about this? You've seen alien technology light years ahead of humanity but you won't acknowledge when humanity actually creates its own advanced technology?"

"Well... I..." She walked away for a moment but then turned back. "It's just that a fully parallel hybrid computer that contains an artificial intelligence? There's nothing on earth that even comes close to that and I'm supposed to believe that some guy just figured all this out?"

"Tosh... you built a sonic modulator based on a set of incomplete and even incorrect schematics," he reminded her gently. "Admittedly the schematics themselves were based on alien technology but you figured out, all by yourself, how to make it work. And you've done amazing things since without the aid of alien technology. Now consider that Sam Beckett earned the nickname of 'The Next Einstein.' Are you going to tell me that humans are incapable of what he has accomplished?"

"When you put it that way, I guess not." She stopped to consider. "So you're saying that right now, there's a man somewhere in time inhabiting another person's... um... aura. If that's true, why? And what did Admiral Calavicci mean by he hasn't come back?"

Jack walked over to a chair and sat down, obviously making himself comfortable for the explanation he was about to give. "To answer your last question first, when Dr. Beckett first leapt, he made a critical error in his calculations. As a result, he can travel in time but only during his own lifetime. He also is unable to return to the current time. Basically, he's trapped. As for the aura... well, that's a bit more complicated."

"Well, I guess if the Rift exists, it's possible for a person to be in a contained eddy of time. How long has this been going on?"

"A long time. Eleven years," he answer solemnly.

"That's a third of my lifetime!" she exclaimed. "Do you really think they'll ever get him back or did you just want a crack at the computer?"

"Only time will tell. But they won't have a chance unless we help them." He gave her a slight smile. "And a crack at the computer doesn't hurt. Think you can eventually set up an interface between our computer and this one?"

"You bet." She smiled, clearly pleased with the opportunity.

"Gotta keep the troops happy," he commented with a wink.

The two continued talking for awhile before Tosh started yawning seriously and Jack bid her a good night again. Walking into his own room, he called out, "Ziggy, I know you're there. What's going on?"

"Dr. Beckett has almost completed this mission."

"Mission?"

"That's what we call what he does. He changes things for the better based on the input of some unknown force."

"Of course, he does," Jack murmured with a nod.

"You sound skeptical for someone who apparently knows so much about this project, Captain. Dr. Beckett has completed at my last calculation 1753 missions."

"Oh, I have no doubts that he has," the Captain corrected her. "An impressive record."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, Captain?"

"Depends on the question, don't you think?" Jack asked, taking off his overcoat and laying on a chair for safe-keeping.

"Why are you funding this project?"

"Why not?"

"The Federal Government was going to end the project due to the high cost of maintaining us. I do not understand why you would willingly take on this project."

Jack shrugged slightly. "There are several reasons. First, there's you. It would be a shame for a brilliant piece of technology as yourself to start collecting dust when you still have a lot of life left in you. Then there's Dr. Beckett. I've always been an admirer, always wanted to meet him. Well, I can't do that if we don't find a way to bring him home. And then there's always the getting back at certain people factor." He grinned broadly.

"You wish to use this project for revenge?" the computer asked, focusing on his last reason first.

"If you mean use the facilities themselves for revenge, absolutely not," Jack corrected her. "Tampering with time for personal reasons is a big no-no. I'm referring to a bit of..." He thought for a moment on how to phrase his intentions. "...judicial embezzlement. Using funds that would have gone for less honorable intentions."

Ziggy considered that. "Do I understand that to mean you will be doing right with monies that would have been used to do wrong?"

"Exactly!" he told her emphatically. "And the best part is, the monies come from a group of people that have made my life hell for a very long time. And that's where the revenge comes in."

"My father sets things right. I suppose that your using the money in this way is much the same." There was another pause. "I will work with you, Captain Harkness."

"Glad to hear it," Jack grinned. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Really, Captain," Ziggy purred. "I seriously doubt you are anything like Humphrey Bogart."

Jack laughed heartily at the retort.


	8. Chapter 7

_Sorry about the massive delay in posting. Real life got in the way for us, unfortunately. We'll try to post more often._

**Chapter 7**

The next morning Tosh and Jack found that Al Calavicci was still tied up with his duties as observer. Tosh got permission to work with Gooshie, learning more about Ziggy. Jack took it upon himself to learn as much about the project as he could, talking with people and hitting on a good number of them, although, since he never pushed, most figured that he didn't mean anything by it. Verbeena had cautioned Jack on the concept of sexual harassment but Jack's attitude was that having a healthy attitude about sex wasn't harassment. The personnel at the project seemed to take the gregarious man in stride. After all, the scuttlebutt was that, without him, the project would be closing. A number of people had already had to be cut from the payroll as the government had pulled funding over the past few years. Admiral Calavicci had done his best to find other positions for those they'd had to let go. They were running lean as it was and everyone knew it could get leaner.

It was mid-afternoon when Al was finally seen again. He looked tired but happy. "Sam's leapt again."

"So, everything went well, I'm supposing. I can tell by the expression on your face," Jack commented as he sipped on a cup of coffee in the project's cafeteria.

"Yeah. Sam was there to keep Melissa..." He stopped a beat to explain, "...the girl he displaced... from making the biggest mistake of her life. The guy she was dating was a real piece of work. He looked her age but he was really in his early thirties. He made a habit of trolling the high schools for young girls. He knocked up several of them and Melissa would have been one of them. Sam stopped that cold and got the nozzle arrested." He shook his head. "I wanted to clean his clock myself."

Jack grinned at the Admiral. "I just bet you did. Coffee?" he offered.

Al nodded and took the cup that Jack filled for him. Before drinking it, he yawned broadly. "I think I'm going to go home for a nap though." After taking another sip, he asked, "Beth and I were wondering if you and Tosh would like to join us for dinner. I was thinking maybe a nice Mexican restaurant in Socorro."

"Beth's your wife, yes?" Jack questioned for clarification. "Well, I'd be honored. And I'm sure Tosh would be too, if I can pull her away from Ziggy. Where and when?"

Al gave him the particulars and then finished the coffee. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to show you around like I wanted. Unfortunately, I live by Sam's clock instead of my own."

"Believe me. I have my own routine very similar to yours," the Captain told him. "Go home. Get some rest. I'll see you tonight."

"Thanks, Jack." Al drained his cup. "See you then."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Jack walked into the restaurant, dressed almost exactly the same as he had worn each time Al had seen him. The only difference Al could see was that the debonair man had a different color dress shirt on. Al himself tended to like variety. Still he had to admit, as consistent as Jack's dress was, he always looked as though he could be on a photo shoot for GQ.

As Jack walked up to the table where Al and Beth were, he smiled. Looking directly into Beth's eyes, he introduced himself. "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness," he greeted with a seductive smile. "Al told me he was married but he never said it was to such a beautiful woman." He raised Beth's hand to his lips to kiss it.

Beth blushed slightly at his words. "Why, thank you, Captain." She gestured to the chair to the right of her. "Please," she encouraged.

Al watched from across the table as Beth blushed. He wasn't sure he liked what he was seeing but decided to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. "I see you found the restaurant okay."

"The wonders of GPS, Al," Jack replied, not taking his eyes from the woman in front of him while he sat down. "I'm afraid that Tosh had to give her regrets. Well, more like she couldn't pull herself away from your computer. You'll have to forgive my partner, Al. She does have tunnel vision when it comes to her fascination with highly advanced technology."

"So I've noticed. Where are my manners? Jack, this is my _wife_, Beth."

"Hello," Jack greeted again, his voice clearly indicating that there was more than a simple greeting in the word.

"Umm... hello," Beth replied, clearing her throat slightly as she pulled her hand from his.

"I must say, Mrs. Calavicci," Jack continued with a charming smile. "My loss, his gain."

Al moved a bit closer to Beth. "Yeah. My gain." He didn't know why, but he was feeling a bit jealous all of the sudden.

"Her gain too," Jack told him, giving Al the same smile.

Al blinked for a moment, unsure how to react to Jack's words. He decided to ignore the comment for the moment. "Jack has agreed to fund us now that the government is pulling out."

"That's great, Al. I was worried. Donna was as well." Donna Elesee-Beckett had left the project several years before to pursue other activities. She had divorced Sam after deciding she couldn't wait for him any longer. Beth had told her there was a time when she had considered the same option concerning Al. She always said if Sam hadn't leapt into her life at just the right time she probably would have gone through with it. It had taken her years to finally realize that Sam had been the man who had told her Al would be coming home.

"Donna?" Jack questioned. His tone indicated more than an interest in the woman's identity.

"Dr. Beckett's ex-wife. She was one of the founders of the project. She left a few years ago but we're still friends."

"Ex-wife, huh?" the Captain grinned. "I'd be interested in hearing her view on the project."

"She's currently working on a different project in California."

Jack nodded slightly at her explanation. "I hope the best for her, then. But right now, I'm not interested in business, not with such lovely company. What shall we have?"

The three made their orders and the conversation moved to Al's family.

"Four daughters," Jack repeated Beth's proud statement of parenthood.

"Yeah." Al noticed the way that Jack spoke. "All married." Suddenly he realized the smile that Jack had for Beth, for him, indeed for anyone had been the same. He narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure about this guy. Yes, he'd agreed to work with him but now, he wasn't so sure. Thinking back, he'd seen that pleasant leer before. At the project. With Tina, with Brad, and even with Beeks.

"Marriage. How very quaint," Jack commented, lifting his glass of wine to take a drink.

"Well, I've been very happy in mine, thanks to Sam." Al took a sip of his wine as well.

"You don't like marriage, Captain Harkness?" Beth questioned with a frown.

"Let's just say I have an appreciation that other people prefer it," Jack answered.

"Oh," she answered, not knowing how else to reply.

"I hope I can meet your daughters some day," he continued. "And their husbands."

"We'll see," answered Al in a non-committed fashion.

As he spoke, the waiter came to the table with a black leather-like folder. It was obviously time for the check to be paid. Both Al and Jack reached for it at the same time.

"I insist," Jack told Al with a smile. Al couldn't help but notice that his fingertips were brushing his, causing the other man's smile to widen slightly. "Unless, of course, you had something else in mind."

Al pulled his hand back suddenly as if he'd just touched a hot stove. "Um... no. I'll just get it next time."

"Sounds fine to me," the Captain replied, taking the check in one hand while dipping into his back pocket with the other. Placing a credit card in the folder, he put it on the edge of the table. It was only a minute before the waiter returned to ring the tab and another minute before Jack signed it.

"I'll see you at the office tomorrow?" Al asked as he helped Beth into her wrap.

"Absolutely," Jack agreed. "You can give me that tour you wanted to give me yesterday. Tosh and I won't be leaving until the day after tomorrow so we have plenty of time to discuss the changes that need to be made."

"Yeah. Changes." Al let out a sigh. He knew this would be the other shoe dropping. "Okay, then. See you tomorrow."

Beth smiled. "Captain, it's been an interesting evening. I'm sure I'll see you again if you'll be working with Al in the future. Have a safe drive back."

Jack took her hand and kissed it gallantly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Beth. I look forward to doing so again in the future." He gave Al a nod before exiting the restaurant ahead of them.

The Calaviccis made their way to their vehicle, watching for a moment as Jack drove away in his rental. Once they got into the car and were driving back to their home, Beth gave a small laugh.

Al turned to her. "What?"

"Oh... I was just thinking. He's an interesting character."

"That's the understatement of the year," he answered.

"Do you think you'll like working with him?"

He rubbed his face slightly. "I don't know, Beth. He's a bit... odd."

"Well... he is different. He seems like a very nice man, though."

"He was hitting on you!" he exclaimed. "Hell, he was hitting on me! And if the girls were there, he probably would have hit on them too!"

"You think that's what he was doing? I thought I was just imagining it."

"Oh, I _know_ he was," Al emphasized. "I mean, did you hear what he said when I introduced you? 'Her gain too?' What kind of guy says such a thing?"

"He does live in the British Isles. You said so. Maybe it's just a phrase there. They have some different sayings."

He glanced at her for a moment, showing her his opinion of that possibility in his eyes. "Not that different, Beth."

Beth bit at her lip. "I wonder what would have happened if we'd encouraged him."

"_Beth!_" he exclaimed, shocked by her words.

She looked over at him. "I don't mean that we would. I was just wondering. You know, like calling someone's bluff?"

Al cringed slightly. "I don't want to know. It's scary enough as it is that he was hitting on both of us."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." She paused. "What is this Tosh like?"

"She's nice," he told her, grateful for the change of subject. "She reminds me of Sam in some ways. Really smart, a bit shy... and completely enamored by Ziggy."

"I'd like to meet her."

"Come by the complex tomorrow and I'll introduce her..." he started but then hesitated. "On the other hand, maybe not such a good idea as Jack will be there."

"Oh, I think I can handle him, Al. You don't know how many men have hit on me over the years. I've never been tempted."

"I'm not worried about you, Beth. It's him I'm worried about. I may have to work with him to keep the project going but that doesn't mean I have to put up with him hitting on my wife."

"Well, maybe the next time she's here then."

"Or you could invite her for lunch," he suggested.

"That would be nice. Do you think she would come? Jack said she's rather obsessed with the computer."

He grinned a bit. "I'm sure that if we give her enough of an incentive, she'll come. Besides, I don't know a single woman who doesn't like to go out to lunch."

"Okay then. Can you let her know?"

"Sure," he agreed. "Better yet, come by the complex." Seeing the look she gave him, he shrugged. "Yeah, I know I said no earlier but, like you said, you can handle yourself, and it's not like Jack is going to have a chance of doing anything."

"Okay," Beth replied with a gentle smile.

As they finished their conversation, Al pulled into the driveway. "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

She leaned towards him, her smile widening slightly. "Only every day. But you can just keep on saying it."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

"So, how did dinner with the new boss go?" Beeks questioned as Al entered her office.

Letting out a breath, he took out one of his cigars. He wouldn't smoke it, but whenever he spoke with Beeks he found it comforting to hold. "Interesting."

Verbeena gazed at him with interest. "How so?"

"He hit on both me and Beth and I'm pretty sure if one of my daughters, or even one of their husbands, had been there he would have hit on them. Has he hit on you?" he asked after a short pause.

She chuckled slightly at his words. "From what I've seen, Captain Jack Harkness hits on everybody."

"I don't know about that. He seemed to back away from Gooshie."

She raised an eyebrow. "Al, everyone backs away from Gooshie... except for Tina. He doesn't exactly have minty fresh breath." She paused. "I've seen Jack back away from others too. But I don't think that he cares too much who he hits on or what gender as long as he finds them attractive."

"Yeah, well... maybe. Seems a little shady to me."

"Why?"

"It's like his hormones are in overdrive."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Well," Al squirmed a bit. "It just seems... wrong."

Verbeena leaned slightly forward, obviously interested. "I recall you having your own interests in the other sex, Al. Not that you went any further than looking. After all, you are a married man and you respect and love your wife."

"Yeah, but that was, well, normal."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm a guy and they're... women."

"Would it be normal for a woman to show interest in many men?"

Al thought for a second. "Yeah... I could accept that."

"Then, why not a man showing interest in both genders?"

Al closed his eyes and nodded. "I guess. It just doesn't feel the same, you know." He thought for a moment. "This is sort of like that leap that Sam had at the military academy, isn't it?"

"Sort of," she agreed. "You had a problem with just the possibility that Sam could have leapt into a gay man. In this case, though, there's no doubt about Jack's preferences. He's very open about his sexuality."

"So you think I'm being... parochial?"

"Maybe a little," she told him gently. "It's hard to be open to other ideas when you're set with norms you've grown up with."

"You think he'd ever act on these thoughts with Beth?"

"I seriously doubt it. He seems very respectful of other's wishes. And while he told me he found the concept of marriage to be..."

"Quaint?" Al put in.

She smiled. "He seems to respect such relationships."

Al appeared to take her words to heart. "Thanks, Verbeena. Our talk's given me something to think about."

"You're welcome," she replied. "Oh, and if you don't want him to show any more than a passing interest in you, tell him. I'm sure that he'll respect those boundaries."

He nodded slowly to Verbeena's words. "I'll keep that in mind," he told her as he stood and left the office. As he did so, he nearly ran directly into Jack, who had just waved Tosh off as she was heading out of the complex.

"Beth invited her out to lunch," he explained to Al.

"Yeah. She said she wanted to meet her." He recalled what Verbeena had said. "Um, Jack?"

Jack looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Al?"

"About last night. I just think you should know that neither Beth nor I are interested in any... um... well..." he trailed off. This was difficult. Al wasn't a prude but he also found the whole subject of extramarital affairs just wrong.

Jack smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Al. When it comes to relationships, I don't interfere in the affairs of others. Just don't blame me if I do some harmless flirting."

"So we're good?"

"Yeah. We're good," he assured him.

"Okay, then." That was settled. "So. I guess we should go over those changes you want."

The two men found their way to a conference room where they discussed the projects new budget and the cuts that would be needed to keep it running.


	9. Chapter 8

_Okay, we know that it's been forever and a day since we posted any chapters. However, we came across a problem: this chapter had a huge gap in it. In addition, we both have had very busy lives, making it impossible for us to fix the problem until now. I know the excuse of "life getting in the way" seems like a cop-out at times but, unfortunately, it's so true. Also, I noticed an inconsistency in a previous chapter which has been corrected. You won't have to go back and reread Chapter 4, though. Just deleted an unnecessary sentence._

_Thanks for being so patient. We hope the updates are worth the wait. The next several chapters have a lot of Master/Peri/Lothos action but I assure you that it is necessary for the whole story arc._

_As always, thanks for the constructive reviews! Keep them coming, please._

"_Julianna Calavicci"_

**Chapter 8**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_July 2005_

Peri walked into the office of the man she found strangely irresistible. Yes, he believed himself to be greater than any other living being on her planet, including her boss who had decided to link his consciousness with the world of electronic binary reality. Harold Saxon in some ways was the most arrogant and annoying person on the planet but she knew without question that, in the last year, she'd become increasingly attracted to his natural magnetism.

"Harry, I have the reports you requested."

Harold Saxon, also known as the Master, a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties but who was actually many hundreds of years old, looked up from the computer on his desk, giving Peri a wide grin. "Ah, Peri. How very good of you to get them for me." He accepted the reports from her but didn't let go of her hand as they touched. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear. "You look fabulous."

His touch on her hand was almost electric. "You don't have to flatter me, Harry."

"But I want to," he told her. He looked into her eyes. "Is it flattery to make an honest assessment of how one looks, especially if that one brightens your day so?"

She blushed. "I suppose not."

He tossed the reports towards the desk, not paying attention whether or not they actually landed on the piece of furniture, though they did with precision. Taking her other hand, he pulled her closer to him. "How I would love to take you out to a restaurant sometime. I'm going stir crazy being limited to this building. But at least it is bearable with you being so close."

"They are making progress on the new dampening field. Would you like to inspect it?"

He gave her a winning grin. "I'd rather inspect you," he teased gently. Seeing the blush his words brought to her face, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. "Go and arrange that for me. I need some time to go over the files you brought."

She smiled at him. "Right away, Harry." She turned and walked out of the room, knowing his eyes were on her. Once in the hallway, she leaned against the wall. She had never before experienced the feelings she felt when she was close to Harold Saxon. Years ago when the girls at school had squealed over the latest heartthrob, she'd found the behavior ridiculous. Now she understood how they felt. With a sigh, she pulled herself away from the wall and went to make sure that the scientists and engineers working on the field were prepared.

The Master leaned against his desk, watching his second leave the room. In the past year, he'd found himself more and more intrigued by her. She was intelligent, beautiful, and dangerous all at the same time, attributes that he had to admit he found quite alluring.

As Peri headed away, Lothos had woven his way through the wires and walls of the Prometheus Institute. "You enjoy leading her on, don't you?" His words rolled out of the ether.

The Time Lord raised his eyes towards the ceiling, his focus shifting to his partner. "Who do you mean?" he questioned. "Dr. Langford?" He walked around the desk and sat down, propping his feet up as he did so.

"Yes. Although I never thought Peri Langford would ever have fallen for any man. One of the things that convinced me to hire her was her unstoppable ambition. For the past five years, she's served me so that she could reach past the glass ceiling most companies place as a barrier to such women."

"Perhaps an exceptional woman requires an exceptional man in her life. Besides, who says I'm leading her on? I might actually have a real interest in her." The Master reached over and picked up the first report on the top of the pile that Peri had brought him.

"What is all that?" The voice was obviously referring to the stack of folders on the desk of the current CEO.

"Something that has caught my attention. Apparently, according to your financial records, there was a worldwide exhibition that the Prometheus Institute held in 1973. From all the articles I read about it, it was pretty much panned by the critics. But one particular item spoken of caught my eye," the Master told him.

The lights flickered at the change in the inflection of the Time Lord's voice. "As I recall my father had been interested in literary props. He thought they were the grandest things but I found them boring. How could anything from that exhibition be interesting?"

The Gallifreyan opened the catalogue of the displays. "This," he said pointing to a picture that was obviously a 3-D diorama of Lewis Carroll's 'Jabberwocky.'"

"I didn't think you'd be all that interested in human children's stories. Really, Saxon, you surprise me sometimes."

"Hey, you'd be surprised what you can learn from children's stories. For example, did you know that sponges live in pineapples?"

The disembodied voice answered dryly, "No... and I can categorically state I don't care."

The Master shrugged slightly. "Your loss. In this case, however, this little diorama shows quite a few delectable oddities for Earth."

"Oh, really. Such as?"

"Well, most of the things in the catalogue are just weapons from various planets. I think all of them would be a great addition to a well-stocked arsenal." He gestured to a picture of one particular item. "But this from Lewis Carroll's collection is really special. The armour this mannequin is wearing. It's a very long way from home." His voice became almost haunted in its tone. "A very long way indeed."

While the concept that these items were extraterrestrial excited Lothos, he didn't see what his new partner saw in the specific item he was pointing to. "It's a suit of chain mail. You can find those at any Renaissance Faire on Earth."

"You are thicker than a concrete wall if you take this for being some pitiful collection of tin!" the Master told him bluntly. "It's Gallifreyan." He looked slightly longing at the picture. "I haven't seen one of those in years!"

"Gallifreyan? I thought you said this stuff was extraterrestrial. I really doubt that any Irishmen figured out how to build a spaceship and started a colony in space."

The Time Lord rolled his eyes at his words. "And here I thought you were a specimen of higher intelligence than the rest of the sentient creatures on this rock."

"What? You mention an Irish name. What the heck am I supposed to believe?"

"I mentioned Gallifrey," the Master corrected him. "It's my home planet but I suppose, since I hadn't told you that before, it's understandable you might be confused. That Renaissance Faire suit is actually the uniform of a member of the Chancellery Guard. And I can guarantee that armour is far more protective than anything any humans can produce."

"Don't tell me you want to prance around in something like that, like some... student in a bad school play."

He glared at the ceiling. "No, thank you. I've had enough problems with the Chancellery Guard in the past. I certainly don't want to dress like one of those trigger-happy incompetent fools." He pondered the picture for a moment. "However... isn't it a symbol of prestige on this planet to display authentic armour in prominence?"

"There are those who do so. Usually those with a 'nobility complex.'"

"Nobility complex? Nobility isn't complex, Lothos. It is a matter of fact. I did choose the name Saxon quite carefully, you know. I'm rather fond of the Saxons."

"You would be," Lothos answered, his voice devoid of any softness.

The Master stood abruptly, ignoring Lothos' words. "I want the armour brought here. And that lovely mitomic. The sword," he clarified immediately in case Lothos didn't understand the request. "I seriously doubt that the power source is intact with that crack in it but it would make a lovely display over my fireplace mantle."

"You've got to be kidding me."

The Time Lord's grin dropped immediately. "I'm quite serious."

Lothos was quiet for a moment. "Fine. You want some toys. I suppose I can give you some."

Even as Lothos spoke, the Master felt an odd shiver run through him. It wasn't the first time he'd felt time shift since he had been pulled back into reality. After all, he did reside in a complex dedicated to time travel and the manipulation thereof. However, this one felt a little different to him, a little more… personal. "Did you feel that?"

"Master, you should know by now that I don't _feel_ anything," the sentient biocomputer reminded.

"Time shifted," the Gallifreyan explained.

"Time always shifts. It is nothing new and is irrelevant to our conversation. Since you are so interested in having some of my father's possession put in display, I will have the sarcophagus delivered within the next two days."

The Master frowned in confusion. "Sarcophagus? I didn't ask for a sarcophagus. I asked for the Gallifreyan armour and the mitomic."

"Galllifreyan armour and mitomic?"

"The armour and sword from the Lewis Carroll display!" the Time Lord shouted, growing more infuriated with Lothos' apparent and inexplicable density.

"As I informed you only five minutes ago, those items were stolen from the Chicago Museum of Science and Technology eighteen years ago under mysterious circumstances."

With Lothos' response, the Master instantly knew that the museum theft was the cause of the time shift he'd felt. "What mysterious circumstances?" he asked, wanting to know how a simple museum heist could cause time to shift so drastically.

Lothos sighted audibly. "I wonder, Master, if you should visit the staff physician as you are obviously having difficulty with your memory."

"Just answer the bloody question."

"Very well. As I informed you before, the perpetrators stole all of those items which you have identified as being of extraterrestrial origin and left behind a far more valuable collection of Egyptian artifacts dating back to the reign of Pharaoh Ptah-Hotep II, which the museum gave several items to my father as compensation for his stolen property. You had expressed interested in the sarcophagus, though why you would want such a thing is a mystery to me."

The Time Lord smirked knowingly as the hybrid gave his explanation. "I like sarcophagi. Call me eccentric. But I'm more interested in locating and capturing the thief."

"You know who is responsible for the heist?"

"Oh, yes. The Doctor."

"The other Time Lord you have referred to in the past."

"It makes perfect sense. He would steal valuable alien technology, especially weapons, just to make sure that it stayed out of the wrong hands. But why he'd leave behind Egyptian artifacts? What was he doing? Cleaning house to make room for the weaponry?"

"You still haven't told me what the story is between the two of you," Lothos stated, changing the subject before the Master could go on another one of his nonsensical rants. "After all, I've been using a significant part of my resources to build this enormous dampening field. If you're so powerful, I don't understand why you'd need it."

"I already explained it to you several times before. If there isn't a telepathic dampening field covering the Earth and I leave this building, the Time Lords will find me and that wouldn't be good, especially if it's the Doctor who finds me."

"And that is my point. Why are you so afraid of this Doctor?"

"I'm not afraid of him!" he responded, leaning back in his chair. At the same time, his mind was considering Lothos' question even as his fingers drummed upon the desk in a regular four beat rhythm. It had been over a year since he'd joined the Prometheus Institute and, although he had no intention of telling this electronic human monstrosity anything truly important, he was getting tired of the question. Perhaps explaining a little more was prudent at this point. "He's been a thorn in my side for centuries. He disagrees with my... vision of the future and tries his utmost to stop me from achieving my goals and, as a Time Lord, he has significant power in his own right. Always getting his nose into the thick of things, having to save the universe one little problem at a time. Caring for humans..." He said the word with disdain. "Actually believing that this primitive backward Level Five planet is worth saving. He just doesn't seem to understand that, as Time Lords, we are far superior to these creatures, with so very few exceptions. And I would love nothing more than to ensure that he never interferes with me again, thus the need to capture him. However, until the trap is set, I must remain hidden."

The voice took on an ominous tone. "What will you do when you capture him?"

"Well, he will be given a choice." The Gallifreyan stood and walked around the desk. "Either he will cooperate with me..." He paused dramatically before continuing. "...or he will watch everything he loves be destroyed, helpless to prevent it. You see, you can't torture him into cooperation. He cares absolutely nothing for himself. But his friends... this planet... oh, he cares a great deal for them. A great deal."

"Sounds like a do-gooder like Beckett," Lothos said with disgust.

"I told you about the Doctor. Your turn," the Master told him bluntly. "He's a mere human. But you seem so bent about him. Why is that?"

The lights dimmed and then came up again. "It's a long story..."

"And I have time on my hands... so tell me."

The consciousness wavered slightly again but then started his tale. "He betrayed me."

"Really," the Time Lord replied. "So you had a difference of opinion, I take it?"

"It was more than that." If the being could huff, he would have. "Ever since I was a child, the way things worked fascinated me. My father encouraged me in that." Almost as an aside, he said, "Not that he didn't compare me to Frederick there as well."

"Frederick?"

"My father had a family before my mother and me. Fredrick was his first son and to hear him speak, he was just about perfect. He and his mother died in a fire. A few years after that, he married my mother. I was born a year after that."

The Master huffed slightly. "I almost forgot you were human once," he commented, saying the name of the species as if it were a disease.

"Yes. You could say I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth." He paused and went on. "Before I started school, they found I was a genius. My father made sure I was sent to the schools with the best academics. My mother made sure they were also the most prestigious. That's how I ended up at MIT. I met Sam there."

"Fascinating," the Gallifreyan quipped, clearly uninterested. "And you've hated him ever since."

"It didn't start out like that. We were both graduate students there, although Sam was a few years younger than I. We actually hit it off pretty well although he was definitely not in my league. He was smart, yes, but he was a hayseed. He'd spent his entire life milking cows, bailing hay, and mucking out stalls."

"So this was a man from the masses and not the elite. I've had my own share of such people."

"Interesting," the consciousness said although it was quick and it was evident he wanted to get back to his own story. "Like I was saying, we were both graduate students at MIT in the Physics department. Sam was working on with Dr. LoNigro on his doctorate thesis, 'Temporal Behavior of Quarks.' I was working with Dr. Wright on the possibility of transmitting matter across a distance for my own thesis." He paused again as if considering that time. "In any case, Sam and I talked about things. I learned that he'd always had this dream of traveling through time. He used to keep a piece of string in his pocket to show what his idea was. It was novel, I'll give you that."

"A string and an idea," the Master said, barely paying attention.

Lothos's voice took on annoyance. "It's not the string. It's what it represented. The string was his life. You tied the ends together and then balled up the whole thing. He figured you could travel through time because the days of your life would be jumbled. All the days out of sequence."

"Elementary time travel theory. There are a lot of inherent problems with time travel using that theory."

"Well, for someone that lives for thousands of years, that might be true. For a human it was pretty impressive."

"I suppose."

"The point is, I could see the possibilities, the ability to change things. I was even willing to fund all the research through my father's Prometheus Institute."

The Gallifreyan slumped into the couch at Lothos' words. "Let me guess. 'You can't deliberately change history.' That's what he said, isn't it? The Doctor and Beckett more alike than I thought."

"Yes. That's what he said _then_," Lothos growled. "Sure changed his tune later."

"They always do. Once it's convenient for them. Do you know how many times the Doctor has broken the First Law of Time?"

"First law of time?"

"Oh, the Time Lords have these laws that we're supposed to obey. The First Law is non-interference with other planets. Well... the Doctor has made the Earth one of his pet projects, always interfering."

"Huh," the voice from the node considered before starting up again. "Getting back on the subject... Beckett and I would talk. I had to admit, at first it was great having someone that actually appreciated the beauty and subtlety of my ideas. Later, he stole them to build his project, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I offered to fund him to the hilt and he turned me down cold. Said he couldn't trust me to keep the project pure. Can you believe that? Then there was the accident at my lab. A couple of incompetent undergrads had caused it. One of them was killed and the other one was hurt badly but it was their fault. I wasn't even there. The Institute was willing to make full restitution and even threw in a huge amount of money over that. At least the families said they were satisfied with the money. Everything would have been fine if Beckett hadn't complained to the Dean."

"Typical. Blaming you for something that wasn't even your doing. Self-righteous prick."

"That was my take on it. The truth is, I was railroaded in the investigation. Charges were filed. I was sent to prison for manslaughter."

"Okay. So, Beckett caused you to go to prison," the Master concluded, finally grateful that Lothos had gotten to the heart of the matter. Or at least that's what he thought. His eyes rolled slightly as the computer based intelligence droned on.

"Yes. But that wasn't the worst of it. My father had a massive stroke while I was there. He died and I wasn't even able to say goodbye to him."

_Personal vendetta because of some minor thing as a prison sentence and missing his daddy's funeral?_ The Time Lord forced himself not to roll his eyes again, thinking how he would have just arranged a jailbreak and hunted Beckett down to kill him outright rather than letting the non-issue become the issue it was now. "My hearts ache for you, Lothos," he finally said once the explanation was finished, letting his tone reflect a sympathy that wasn't there. "Such a shame," he lied. He wasn't afraid of Lothos' possible retaliation but neither did he want to shatter the fragile trust the computer had in him. It wouldn't do to break their arrangement too soon.

"Yes. It was. After that Beckett started his project. I was able to hire some of the construction engineers away. They weren't the ones that knew the details but I got a pretty good idea of what he was putting together and I built my own project."

"So... fair play, then."

"Well, you can see why I'd hate the man with all the things he did." There was a pause. "I feel our stories are somewhat similar. I will be quite pleased when both of our nemeses are rendered non-sequitor."

The Master huffed slightly at his words. "My story isn't anywhere near to being similar to yours."

"He is your enemy. Beckett is mine. As I say, they are similar."

The Gallifreyan glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, a slight smirk on his face. He knew that Lothos had no real idea about his relationship with the Doctor. Neither was he going to bother to further correct him. If Lothos wanted to believe there was a similarity, so be it. "Well, I'm sure that when we have the Pi Network in place, our chances of achieving that become certain." He was glad that he'd heard the story at least once. It confirmed his belief that Lothos was a petty, evil dictator with delusions of his own righteousness.

"That is why I'm providing the funding. I suppose that your request to shield yourself should also be considered a direct requirement to building the network. I will let my engineers know I expect them to continue to work around their difficulties."

"I'd be seriously surprised if your people even understand the basic principles I've laid out."

"I have the best engineers on the planet here."

"They're still human." The Time Lord started towards the door. "Still, I suppose I could see what you're best engineers have come up with."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Walking through the reception area to his office, the Master strode to the nearest elevator and pressed the appropriate button, inputting the six-digit access key to go down to the hidden lower levels. The elevator traveled down into the secret base under the Prometheus Institute and he walked towards the lab where the engineers were at work.

"Progress report," he ordered as he entered into the room without preamble. He glanced over at Peri, giving her a slight smile before turning his attention to the engineer approaching him.

"Dr. Saxon," Steve Milton, the chief engineer on the project, greeted with a slight hint of derision.

"Apparently, you have forgotten that Saxon is a pseudonym only used above Level A, in the Prometheus Institute proper," the Master told him, clearly annoyed. "Down here, you will refer to me as the Master."

"Of course... Master," came the response, the scientist looking at him with dark eyes.

"I came for a progress report on the telepathic dampening field generator. Have you one?"

"Of course." He walked over towards a bench. "We've been testing this system since yesterday and I believe it meets your specifications."

Before anything could be said, Lothos' presence was felt in the room. "It better, Milton," said the disembodied voice.

The Master ignored Lothos' threat and followed Milton. He looked at the piece of equipment with a frown. The object before him was a dull gray metal box, about twelve inches square, with six buttons on one side. "This is it? This is the telepathic dampening field generator you promised?"

"It's portable as you instructed so that a dampening field will be generated anywhere you go."

"And where exactly am I supposed to keep this?"

"This equipment is designed to provide a dampening field for 16.29 kilometers in any direction. It will perform the functions you have specified without interfering with any human communications systems," Milton explained.

"That didn't answer my question. What if I want to go further than 16.29 kilometers away from this thing? Am I to put it in a backpack and carry it around? Once again, it's too big. You couldn't even hide this in a suitcase. And I am so sure that it would make a great impression to the public to see Harold Saxon, CEO of the Prometheus Institute, go out in public wearing a backpack everywhere he went."

Milton's face dropped into a glare. "Your schematics were a bit hard to read. It appeared to show that the expected final product would be hardly larger than a wristwatch. While that might eventually be possible, with the current technology..."

The Master turned towards him, giving him a glare. "It _is_ possible with the current technology, Mr. Milton. I specifically altered the schematics to _allow_ for the current technology."

Steve Milton pushed his glasses up by the bridge he answered, superiority dripping from his voice. "Sir, I'm telling you, what you're asking for just isn't possible. You can ask for it until you're blue in the face and it won't change that reality."

The Master's eyelids dropped at the engineer's words. "Don't tell me what's possible or impossible!" he told him angrily. "I am a Time Lord! My technological knowledge surpasses yours by a hundred thousand years! The children of my world could make this in their sleep! You have to be the thickest human being I've ever met! This is the fourth time you've presented me with an atrocity and my patience can only go so far. How long have you been working on this? A year? I should have insisted on making it myself but Lothos has me working elsewhere ninety percent of the time. If this is the absolute best you can come up with, you're worthless!" He shook the box in the engineer's face. "And so is this... plaything... you've just wasted my time with!" He tossed it back onto the worktable, causing it to clatter loudly.

Taking affront at having his abilities so thoroughly disparaged in front of his team, Milton reacted poorly. "Now, see here, you can't talk to me like that! If your 'children' are so bloody brilliant, then maybe you should just put a few of them on this project instead of wasting our time!"

The Gallifreyan took several deep breaths, his fists clenching, rage rolling behind his eyes. A moment later, the rage exploded from him in the form of a hard punch to the man's jaw, causing the engineer to drop to the ground. His voice sliced like a razor blade over stunned engineer. "You are the single most annoying human being on this planet! How dare you even compare your abilities to the least of the Gallifreyan race! In comparison to them, you are nothing more than a sorry speck!"

Milton looked in wide-eyed fear up at the Master's imposing figure. "I... I..." He didn't get any further as a beam of laser light caught him square in the chest, effectively destroying his heart. His eyes grew larger for an instant before he fell to the floor, dead.

The voice of Lothos filled the room. "Master, I apologize. I do not know how such an incompetent human was placed in charge of this project. I promise you, it will not happen again." His voice focused on the woman standing beside the Master, her face calm but her eyes shocked at the development. "Look into this, Peri."

"Y... yes, Lothos," the woman replied softly. Her voice showed strength even with the shock she was obviously feeling. She turned her head to look at the Master, who was regarding the body of the engineer with a blank expression.

After a long moment, the Gallifreyan took a deep breath. "So... who is going to build my telepathic dampening field generator?" he questioned, gazing at the rest of the engineers in the room. "Anyone?"

No one stepped forward, all eyes on the body of their recent leader.

The Master sighed audibly, moving away from the body. Approaching one of the scientists, he gave him a slight smile. "What's your name?"

"Theodore Sloan, Master."

"Mr. Sloan." The Master extended a hand towards him. "Pleased to meet you."

Taking the hand of the CEO of the Prometheus Institute, he swallowed nervously. "Yes, Master. It is good to have the honor."

"So... do you have an opinion about how to build the telepathic dampening field generator using the schematics I've provided? Mr. Milton said that my schematics were difficult to read and that was why it came out looking like an oversized gray Rubik's Cube." He looked around to see a couple of smirks. "It's okay. You can laugh. It was a joke."

"Well," Theodore started, "I was thinking that, if we were to utilize the Ramorski technique, the Saniol connection could be minimized and the field would simultaneously be strengthened..." He stopped, licking his lips and looking down. "I mean, in theory that could work."

The Master nodded slightly at his words. He gestured towards the worktable. "Take a look at the schematics with me, Theo. Show me."

The young engineer walked over to the table where the schematics were laid out. He pointed to an area on one of the drawings. "Here," he said, taking courage from the manner that the Master had asked him. "This area could be optimized and enhanced causing the connection at this point," he said running his finger over to another section of the drawing, "to support the strengthening of the field." He stopped again and turned to the Master. "I think that will do what I suggested."

The Time Lord nodded again, seeming to consider his words. "You know what, Theo? That's exactly what I was hoping you would say. Because you are absolutely correct. In fact, I took that into account when making up these schematics. I wonder why Milton didn't see it."

Theodore swallowed tightly. "I don't know, Master. I guess he had other ideas. I'd tried to suggest these things to Dr. Milton but he told me that, since I graduated less than six months ago, my grasp of engineering wasn't up to par yet."

"Incompetent imbecile," the Gallifreyan grumbled. He looked at the schematics again. "Anything else you would like to suggest?"

Sloan seemed to weigh the question before answering. "Yes. I'm not sure what these symbols on the sub-drawing to the housing section are. They don't appear to be decorative and yet they don't correspond to any engineering nomenclature I'm aware of."

The Master gave a slight huff. "Let me guess. Milton thought they were decorative."

"He... um... said that they couldn't be instructions."

"Well, he could have just asked me about them instead of making assumptions. They _are_ instructions, as a matter of fact. I wrote these schematics up in a bit of a hurry and forgot to translate some of it into English." The Time Lord tapped the one of the symbols. "Do you have a pen on you?"

Taking a pen from his lab coat, Theodore place it in the Master's waiting hand.

Clicking the pen open, the Master quickly translated the symbols, writing just underneath each one as appropriate. After several moments, he erected himself. "There you go, Theo. Take a look at that and tell me if you can make this for me."

The young engineer read through the notes and smiled. "This provides the missing link to the board requirements. With this, we'll be able to make this small enough for you to wear it."

The Master slapped him on the shoulder. "Good. That's what I want to hear. You let me know when it needs to be tested and I'll be glad to help you out with that. And don't hesitate to ask me if you have questions."

"Yes, Master," Theodore answered. "And thank you, sir."

The Time Lord gave him a nod and exited the room with confidence, Peri following. "Make sure that the body is removed quickly," he instructed a guard as he passed him.

Peri walked with the Master through the corridors and back up to the office. She followed him in and immediately began the task of making him a cup a tea, a ritual that had begun about two weeks after the man had been pulled from his confinement. The Master, quite used to the daily ritual he and Peri had fallen into, went to his desk and sat down, putting his feet up on the surface of the large piece of furniture. Within a few minutes, she came to him with a fine china cup in hand. Handing it to him, she stood to the side and waited for him to initiate any verbal interaction.

He sipped on his tea for a moment, feeling her eyes on him. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to speak or move, he turned to her with questioning eyes. "What is it, Peri? You've got that disapproving look I've come to recognize." While he could be a task master as a boss, he also knew the benefits of good employee relations, especially when trying to avoid premature confrontations with an egotistical megalomaniac computer.

She licked her lips lightly. "Steve Milton. He may not have been the best person for that particular job but I'm not sure that his death was warranted."

The Time Lord put his cup down, turning towards her and dropping his legs as he did so. "Is that what you're worried about? Steve Milton?"

"I just don't think he needed to die."

He sighed at her words. "And what do you want me to do about it? Raise him from the dead? I may be a superior being from another world but I'm not capable of bringing the dead back to life."

"I never said you were, Harry. It's just that you seemed unfazed by what happened to him. Like his life was not a valuable thing."

"What makes you think his life was valuable?"

"Because life is not something that we can just create and destroy at a whim. There is a sacredness to it."

"Oh, don't tell me you're one of those religious nut jobs," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "I thought I knew you better."

"I'm just saying that life is something that has an intrinsic value quite separate from religion."

"You really believe that?" Slowly he stood and moved to her, looking into her eyes. "You really believe that life isn't just a fleeting thing that blows away like so much dust."

"I just don't see what the point would be if that were the case. Think about it. It wouldn't make sense if the mind, the soul, the essence of a being simply was a brief light and then was gone forever."

"There is no scientific basis for a soul, Peri. That falls under the realm of faith and thus under religion. Rationally, only the extraordinary deserve to live. Survival of the fittest."

"Not everything that exists can be explained. There are some things that we simply do not know how or why they are. To paraphrase Shakespeare, there are more things in heaven and earth, Harry, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Besides, it wouldn't be efficient."

He huffed. "Don't go paraphrasing Shakespeare. I hate it when people do that. As if William Shakespeare was some sort of miracle worker. He was a playwright. That's all."

"Yes, that may be true. But the words he wrote resonate somehow. Speak to greater things."

"Greater things like 'the soul'," he supposed, his voice hinting at sarcasm. "Let me ask you something, Peri. A theoretical question. What if Steve Milton was a traitor? What if his blunder with the telepathic dampening field was a deliberate act to undermine our goals? Would he have deserved to die then?"

"That would be different. Then he would have consciously chosen to perform an act which would have grave consequences."

"So, how do you know he didn't do just that? Are you a mind reader?"

"No. I'm not. As far as I know, no one is."

"My people are. Why do you think I need a telepathic dampening field?"

"I meant that no human is telepathic. You're not human."

"True," he agreed. "But you automatically assumed that Milton didn't deserve to die, even though you had no insight into his thoughts, his motivations."

"I just don't believe that Milton was the type to have the balls to be a traitor. He was one of Lothos' most willing followers."

"So, your belief in his worthiness to live has to do with whether or not he was loyal to Lothos."

"Not Lothos specifically. What I mean is, he, like all of us, was hired by Lothos and there were certain things we agreed to. If he had been a traitor, he would have been going against what he had sworn to uphold. It would be the same for anything a person has committed themselves to."

"So, he would have been more of a traitor to himself than to Lothos." A smile formed on his face. "You have a most refreshing point of view, Peri. So, based on your argument, he didn't deserve to die." He thought for a moment. "Out of morbid curiosity... how would you have handled Milton, since you are so convinced he didn't deserve death?"

"Well, I think he should have been disciplined, of course. What he did was simply stupid and the right amount of negative reinforcement to show that stupidity isn't tolerated would have been ideal. I could have helped in doing so." She smiled lightly as she went on. "Besides, Lothos takes such joy in playing with his toys... much more joy than in destroying them."

"So I've noticed. Odd that he decided to kill Milton," the Master pointed out.

"Not really. When Lothos is upset, he can lash out and often doesn't think of the consequences in the moment. That was Milton's biggest mistake. He argued with you and that caused Lothos to believe he needed to save face. If Milton had only backed down instead of standing up to you, it's likely there would have been a different outcome. Lothos couldn't abide Steve's arrogance that he would be smarter than the CEO of the Prometheus Institute."

He hummed slightly, nodding. "True. Lothos does have a bit of a temper. And Milton has been a pain in my side since that debacle with Canterbury." He grimaced almost comically. "Probably didn't help that I called Milton 'worthless.' Then again... hard to call a fish a banana."

"Yes. I believe that was the nail in the coffin, so to speak." She sighed. "And now we need to find a replacement... again."

"Oh, I'm sure Theo Sloan will do just fine," Harry told her. A small smile played on his lips as he moved closer to her. "However... if you really want to find a replacement for Milton... I'd love to help you."

"Your assistance has been greatly appreciated since you started showing an interest in that part of my duties," she said with a coy smile.

"Not the only thing I'm interested in concerning you," he answered, bodily moving her to the nearest wall.

Over the past few months, this had become an almost weekly, if not daily occurrence. Peri had become comfortable with the way he came onto her, actually finding pleasure in the inherently inappropriate sexual tete-a-tete. She allowed his hand to stroke up her arm, feeling a tingle that was electric to her. "Which I am quite excited about, Harry. Any particular thing you have in mind today?" She felt a shiver crawl up her spine as his fingers caressed her.

He hummed for a long moment as he considered his options. Since he started his experiment in P.I.'s courtyard, he'd found Peri Langford to be a most interesting subject to say the least. She seemed to be extremely resilient against telepathic influence, a sure sign of a strong mind either with telepathic training or with natural mental defenses. However, she was also quite willing to explore possibilities, as long as it didn't interfere with her own goals. He now knew that she couldn't be influenced by the usual, more convention and time-true means he had used on other humans. She was, in his opinion, an exceptional specimen of the human species, a shining rarity in a world full of ineptitude and, as such, he had to find other means to get her to be totally loyal to him. And if engaging her sexual interests would accomplish his goals, so be it. It didn't hurt in the least that flirting with her was definitely a marvelous distraction he enjoyed and that she was extremely attractive... for a human. Perhaps he might even consider going further than just flirting.

"I can think of plenty of things to occupy our time," he responded to her question. Leaning forward, he grazed his lips over her ear for a moment. "Was there something specific that you had in mind yourself?"

"I'm sure whatever you do will drive me mad," she responded, her voice full of anticipatory passion.

"Oh, you have no idea," he whispered in her ear before pulling away, a mischievous glint in his eyes that told he knew he was tormenting her by not advancing further than taunting her with vague promises that never came to pass. He smiled as he looked into her eyes while abruptly changing the subject. He so loved seeing the frustration on her face when he did that. "Oh, by the way... that bit about Milton... I may not agree with your reasoning as to why he shouldn't have died but you did make some very valid points. I admire that in a person. Intelligence is a marvelous quality."

Peri growled slightly at the abrupt change in subject although she appreciated the fact that he had indeed listened to what she'd said. "I'm glad you said that, Harry."

"And why is that?" he questioned with interest, watching as she struggled to take control of herself once again. By the expression on her face, he could easily see that he'd rattled her world completely. He had no doubts that he could take her anywhere, anywhen he wanted and she wouldn't protest in the least... and probably wouldn't care if there were an audience.

"Because it tells me that, while you may not always fully agree with me, you are at least willing to listen and see my point of view."

"I will always listen to your point of view, Peri," he assured her even as his eyes admired her figure once again. "I can see why you were... upset... with my lack of reaction to Milton's death. It wasn't very... human, was it?"

"No. And while being human is not something I want or expect from you, I am glad when you can see something in my species that's worthwhile."

He sat on the edge of the desk, his eyes focused on her. "You, my dear, are definitely worthwhile." He looked into her eyes, holding them. "I suppose I've seen so much death that it no longer has the same impact on me as it obviously does on you. Life isn't as valuable to me as it once was."

"It is easy to become cynical when one has seen so much." She paused. "And it was Lothos who killed him, not you. As I said before, Lothos is not always the most patient being."

"No, he isn't," the Master agreed. "But I'm not Lothos. I am far more patient than him. You are extremely beautiful," he abruptly changed the subject again, folding his arms over his chest with authority.

She smiled at him, glad that his mood had shifted to make her the subject of his scrutiny once more, but choosing not to respond to those words at this moment. "No, you are definitely not Lothos," she started. "Not in any sense and I find that refreshing."

He returned the smile, noting that she didn't respond to his comment about her beauty. "I'm glad that you find me just as intriguing as I find you." He considered the conversation they'd had since returning to the office before sighing slightly. Why did he always feel as if every conversation they'd had, every little instance of bringing her deeper and deeper under his influence emotionally, resulted in him feeling... unfulfilled? Mentally, he shook off the odd sensation, just as he had before, while standing from the desk and walking around to sit at it properly. "So... what else is on the agenda this afternoon?"


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_December 2005_

The Master walked into Peri's office, noting that the back of her chair was facing towards the door. There was a crystal tumbler on the desk with a light amber colored liquid intermingling with ice cubes. Peri wasn't one to drink often so the alcohol on her desk indicated that she was having a hard day. He smiled slightly as he thought of how he'd occasionally teased the scientist, slowly drawing her closer to his circle of loyal followers. She wasn't the only one he'd been influencing loyalty from but she certainly was proving to be the most interesting.

"Holiday blues?" he questioned, moving towards the desk.

The chair swiveled smoothly around. Peri looked tired. "No. Not holiday blues. You know my most recent project has been to bring Timothy Wooglin into the fold. I enjoy the work but it can be tiring."

"Ol' Timmo not being cooperative, is he?"

"He's being as cooperative as the fly that gets closer and closer to the sticky pads of a Venus Fly Trap. Can taste the sweetness but leery of the danger. When they're intelligent it's more difficult to fool them completely."

Harry picked up her drink and sipped at it. "Hmm," he commented haphazardly. "Well, I'm sure you're doing a fine job."

"I am," she agreed. His eyes widened slightly at her somewhat uncharacteristic immodesty. "I've been doing this a long time, Harry. I'm simply very good at molding their behaviors to what Lothos expects. He's almost ready to enter stage three conditioning."

He smiled at her words as he took a big swallow of the scotch. "Good scotch," he murmured. Putting the empty glass back on the desk, he sat on the corner to give her his full attention. "I love it when you show me your more Machiavellian side. No one ever said that women couldn't master Machiavelli's techniques just as well as his 'prince.' In fact, I think women can be even better at applying them."

"Why, thank you. I think that's the nicest compliment you've ever given me." She paused. "We've got him drugged and have put him into one of the rooms on the lower level. He'll awake tomorrow and then I really start my work." She smiled. "And really, this is my favorite part of the whole process."

As she spoke, the Master elegantly and quickly moved, physically trapping her in her luxurious leather chair before taking her lips possessively, effectively silencing her. His hands supported her head tightly to reinforce his appropriation of her. One knee begged to go between her legs while the other provided support to prevent him from falling.

For the briefest of moments, her thoughts continued down the path she had been extolling and her teeth bit against his lips, drawing blood. As he pulled back suddenly, her face fell slightly, slight fear in her eyes as if unsure of his response to her maiming action. Unable to speak, she blinked, awaiting his reaction.

The Master, startled by the sudden pain on his lips, banged his leg against the desk behind him. Tentatively, he licked at the wound she had created, his eyes unreadable for a long moment. "You bit me," he stated, disbelief tingeing his words.

"Yes," she answered tentatively. "It's not that I didn't enjoy your kissing me, but it probably wasn't the best..."

"You bit me!" he interrupted her loudly, his eye blazing.

Again the fear reached her eyes. She knew this wasn't the time to push. "Yes," was all she said this time.

Raising his hand to his lip, he again examined the small wound, the Gallifreyan healing response already beginning. Slowly, a smile started to form on his lips. "You're feisty!" he commented. "I like that!"

Seeing he wasn't about to discipline her, she rose from her chair, move forward to him as he leaned back against the desk. "I'm glad, Harry." The two had seduced each other several times over the last year and a half although it had never gone farther than serious groping. She had figured that both of them had needed the release. Although the man had finished her drink, Peri had drank enough that her behavior was not as cautious as it had been before with their other encounters. Right now, the kiss and the biting had turned her on. She pressed herself against him seductively. "I want you," she stated, her voice almost a purr.

"Really? Is that what you want, Dr. Periwinkle Langford?" He reciprocated the action, pushing her gently back into the chair. He again crawled into position over her, taking his rightful place of dominance.

"Yes," she said breathing in the scent of him. "You are the most exciting man I've ever known. Brilliant, debonair, handsome..."

"You make me sound like Brad Pitt," the Master joked. "Well... except for the brilliant part."

"Brad Pitt is a petulant child in comparison to you, Harry." She began to unbutton his jacket and to run her hands around his torso eagerly. "I like a strong man and I've never been with anyone that turns me on the way you do. Yes, it's you I want," she said as her hand left his torso and centered on a much more sensitive spot, caressing him.

He grinned broadly at her actions. "You keep this up... you're going to have me too soon."

She slowed her movements at his words. "Then take me at your own speed, Time Lord. Take me any way you desire. I'm yours." She paused considering the words. "Time Lord. What does that mean exactly? It sounds sexy."

He smiled almost whimsically at her choice of words. "Sexy, huh?" he murmured, moving an inch closer to her, his hands slowly moving up her sides and pulling out her blouse from her skirt as they went. "I can see all of time and space. And I have had many lives. That means is... I'm over thirteen hundred Earth years old. And I still have another eleven lives left."

"You're over thirteen hundred years old?" she questioned, stunned that anyone could live to such an extensive age.

"Does that really matter? Are you intimidated by..." He chuckled slightly at his own upcoming phrase. "...an older man?"

"No... but... thirteen hundred years... and all of time and space? You can see the future? Know what everyone is going to do?" She pulled slightly away from him, considering the ramifications of such a powerful being.

"Not exactly," he corrected her, trying not to be too disappointed by her pulling away from him. "More like... I can see the many possibilities the future presents. And I can see so many possibilities concerning you, Periwinkle Langford."

She licked at her lips. "What do you mean? What do you know?"

He looked deeply into her eyes. "This is a pivotal moment in your life. Your whole future will be determined by your choices from this moment on."

She swallowed tightly. "I don't understand. What choices? What do you want me to do?"

He came closer to her, moving so that he was able to capture her eyes in every movement. Looking deeply into those eyes that spoke so plainly to him, he whispered conspiratorially, "Do you trust me?"

She nodded as if afraid to voice her feelings.

He grazed his hands through her hair, not removing his hypnotic gaze for a long moment as the tips of his fingers stopped and found her temples. As he found the information he'd been looking for in her mind - the firmly set loyalty to him - a smile crept to his face before he forced her against the nearest wall, taking possession of her mouth. This time she melted into him, trying to say with her body and mouth what she couldn't say with her words.

Finally breaking physical contact, the Master watched her catching her breath, he himself unaffected by the extended kiss. "My bedroom? Or do you prefer this wall?"

"Either," was her answer. "I just want you in every way."

With a lecherous smile at her affirmation, he quickly reached up and ripped her blouse open, sending buttons in every direction before forcing it off of her shoulders as he gave her a bruising kiss. She continued to follow his every lead, the two in what might have appeared to be a dance full of energetic lust. As he started to work the waistband of her skirt, her glazed eyes opened lazily. Immediately afterwards, she pulled back from her lover and yanked her clothes around her, her eyes once more darting.

"Don't stop on my account. I was quite enjoying the show." There was a small hint of excitement in the tone from the disembodied voice.

The Master turned abruptly at the sudden interruption, his eyes finding and glaring furiously at the node in the ceiling, the bright red light, which had been dark until now, giving away the presence of his semi-human partner.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded with an angry shout.

"I was coming to see about Peri. There appeared to be some confusion in her feelings. Imagine my surprise to find you are schooling her as well."

Peri had remained silent, not sure what actions she should take at the moment. Allowing the two partners to work it out seemed the better part of valor.

"How I choose to maintain relations with my assistant is none of your business, Lothos. You knew full well that I was neither in my office nor my suite," the Master berated as he straightened himself out, all interest in Peri's ministrations being overridden by the interruption. "The least you could have done was knocked."

"And how, pray tell, could I do that? I don't have a hand to knock. I guess I could have asked one of my minions to do it but then there would have been another person who knows what the two of you are doing and that can lead to some nasty rumors about the Prometheus Institute's CEO, hmm?"

The Gallifreyan didn't dignify Lothos' taunting with a verbal response, glaring once again at the node. Taking a breath, he turned to Peri. "Straighten yourself," he ordered. "Apparently, recess is over."

Looking from the Master to the light in the ceiling, she nodded. Realizing that she would no longer be able to button her blouse, due to the lack of buttons, she decided that the camisole she'd been wearing under her blouse would have to do. She took off the blouse and pulled on her jacket, buttoning it so the top of the camisole was showing. It certainly didn't present an executive level dress but it was better than trying to explain what had happened to the shirt. "I think it would be best if I confirmed that all the right tools are available in the dungeon area." With that, she started towards the door. Before reaching it, she turned. "I'll see you at five, Harry? You mentioned dinner?"

"Yes," he replied, retrieving his jacket and slipping it on. "Dinner. See you then." Although neither had actually mentioned dinner plans, he wasn't about to go against her suggestion. In fact, he found it rather invigorating of her to open up another opportunity to explore further.

Ignoring the sub-conversation, Lothos's voice called out to the woman, "I'd like to put Mr. Wooglin on a new project as quickly as possible."

She turned. "I thought he was to work with Teddy Sloan on completing the dampening field."

"More pressing issues have come up."

She was about to respond when she saw the Master's signal. The Time Lord had flicked his hand at her, telling her without words to be on her way. Quickly ascertaining that he wanted to handle this situation, she reiterated, "Well, I'll be down on the dungeon level." With that, she walked out of the door.

Waiting until the door was closed, the Master tucked his hands into his trousers, focusing on Lothos. "More pressing issues?" he sneered. "I thought the telepathic dampening field was at the very top of the projects list."

"Well, it was and it's still a top priority," Lothos answered. "But we also need to have some new technologies we've found in a safe in one of the sub basement rooms examined. I figure Wooglin might be the right person for that job."

"Oh, that's all just fine and dandy!" the Gallifreyan replied angrily. "Let's just ignore that I've been on a short leash for the past six months and that only after over a year of being stuck in this building. A coffee shop and a fountain are all I can visit outside. You take Theo off of the dampening field project for a whole month. You absconded the new recruit to do something I am far more qualified to do. You snatch my assistant when I need her in my lab. You prevent me from doing much more than tinker with children's toys. And to top it all off, you invade my privacy on a regular basis!"

"Perhaps you would rather I had left you where I found you instead of using a great deal of time and resources retrieving you?"

"Which I have repaid a thousand times over! Pi is well on its way at becoming a reality. I've given you telepathic dampening technology for this whole building. I've restructured Prometheus to run far more efficiently, making it a viable means of raising funds for your project. I've upgraded your security on both ends. I've broadened your abilities to move around this complex." He paused dramatically. "I have literally given you technology that the Earth won't see for another three thousand years. In return, I ask for so very little. Just the ability to move freely about the Earth, a little privacy when I am in more intimate circumstances, and an equal share in taking over this planet. But every time I wage a minor complaint, you throw out the same cliché of threatening to toss me back where you found me." He glowered ferociously up at the light. "I am a very patient man but there is a limit to that patience and you've passed it with a speed that would rival Mario Andreti! I have had it! I'm supposed to be your partner, not your prisoner!"

Lothos paused a beat. "You feel you're a prisoner, do you?"

The Gallifreyan screeched in fury, kicking at a nearby piece of furniture as he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a thin cylinder before aiming it at the node and pressing a button on the device. The node sparked violently for several seconds before the red light went completely black.

A moment later, a second node lit up. "What was that all about?" Lothos demanded.

The Master, hearing Lothos' voice once again from the alternate node on the other side of the room, turned rapidly, anger etched on his face. "What do you think?!"

"I think you're acting like a petulant child!" the disembodied being responded.

"If I'm being treating like a petulant child, I might as well act like one!" the Time Lord replied vehemently. He started pacing the room, breathing quickly as a result of his highly-charged emotional state.

"And I suppose you feel I'm being unfair to you."

The Master huffed a false laugh. "This isn't about fairness. It's about fulfilling your end of the bargain! That portable telepathic dampening field was supposed to be ready before the plans for the satellites were put in production. Dr. Langford was supposed to be my personal assistant in all matters. And we are supposed to be equal partners!"

"We're moving forward on the satellites, the portable telepathic dampening field is close to finished, I haven't pulled Dr. Langford for any other duties save breaking Wooglin in, and we are partners."

"Bullshit!"

"Such language."

"I can say it in several others not of your world if you want. The meaning is the same! You've been using me!"

"As you have been using my hospitality." Again there was a pause. "I don't appreciate your trying to turn my employees."

"Turn your employees into what? Bullfrogs? Newts? Can't turn them into fairy princesses, that's for sure."

"Funny. Very funny. But not the type of thing one would expect from a 'superior being.'" The light darkened slightly. "No. I mean, why are you trying to influence my employees to betray their loyalty to me?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the Master grumbled, resuming his pacing.

"Oh, really. Then what were you saying to Marta Johansen?"

The Gallifreyan frowned in confusion at Lothos' question. He had tried to hypnotize Marta at one time, had spoken to her about the need for her to be loyal to him. But he'd also made sure that Lothos was nowhere near to overhear the conversation... or so he thought. The ever-present nodes were dark at the time. Perhaps someone had overheard his speaking to Marta and conveyed it to Lothos. Or perhaps Marta herself had told the entity if she was strong enough to break his hypnotic influence. Either way, it was a case of his word against someone else's and he wasn't about to allow his work over the last nine months be ruined by some measly little human.

"I've said loads of things to Marta," he answered. "You have to be a little more specific."

"Oh, I can be very specific." A moment later, the screen on the wall in Peri's office lit up, showing the Master speaking towards the audience, relaying the exact words he had spoken to Marta.

The Time Lord swallowed slightly as he watched himself speak, knowing exactly the circumstances and fully aware that it wasn't some false video conjured up by the disembodied entity. "Where did you get that?" he finally asked, forcing himself to remain composed.

"Do you really think I allow these petty humans to maintain their existences totally on their own? They owe me their lives, even their souls, and so I make sure I can see and hear what my property is experiencing whenever there's a significant shift in their physical readings. It was one of the first technologies I discovered in this building."

"They're bugged? You bugged them? All of them?"

"Yes," Lothos answered proudly. "They're bugged and the building's wired to catch them in any situation I may wish to review."

"Does that include Peri?"

"Yes. Of course. She is mine."

The Master decided at that moment that Peri would not be a spy, voluntarily or not, for Lothos. He knew that the megalomaniacal entity wouldn't just free her so he would have to take the matter into his own hands. It wasn't that he really cared about the woman all that much, he told himself. He just really didn't like being spied on, especially when he was trying to take over the world with cunning and deception. He also really disliked the idea of being the star of Lothos' own private pornographic film collection... supposing he had one. But in order to prevent any further interference from meddling computers - highly advanced with human neurons or not - he had to get her away from the building, something he couldn't do at the moment. "I will complete the temporal dampening field myself, Lothos. That way you won't have to use any more of your precious human resources. Just have the current work sent to my lab and I'll obtain what I need from stores. And I want Dr. Langford back in my lab immediately. Have someone else break in Wooglin. I'm sure you have plenty more talented recruiters in your employ."

If the node could have blinked, it would have been doing so now. "You'll complete the dampening..."

"Since you won't do it in a timely manner, yes. I'll do it all, just like I've had to do everything I wish done since I wound up on this backward planet," the Time Lord growled. "And then we can finally get down to the whole reason you pulled me out of the Eye in the first place, namely the promotion of Pi and the eventual taking over of this rat hole."

"Let me point out you have other duties to attend to."

"What duties?" the Gallifreyan asked with sarcasm. "I'm not one of your employees, Lothos. I can do as I please with my time. And with Peri Langford, for that matter, since you made her my personal assistant." He turned to exit the room. "You got a problem with that, tough. I'll be down in my lab."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_February 2006_

Peri Langford was primping in front of the mirror, preparing for her date with Harry Saxon. She breathed a sigh. It had been twenty-eight months since she'd first learned about the man and eighteen months since the two had begun a relationship that was the most exciting she'd ever experienced, especially the last two months. She frowned, slightly, thinking that if Lothos wasn't around he might even bed her. But remembering that one night two months before, the night Lothos had stopped them before they could get to that one activity she had been looking forward to, she realized that he'd almost stopped flirting with her at all and that the disembodied consciousness's presence meant it was unlikely he'd ever treat her that way again. It was frustrating to say the least. Sometimes, she could just kill...She stopped her thoughts quickly as she looked guiltily around. With the implants ability to key in on physiological changes, her treacherous thoughts would likely bring about Lothos' surveillance. It was a function of self-preservation to nip those thoughts in the bud.

Putting the final touches to her eyes, she gave herself a long look. She knew the Master would expect her to be his arm candy while standing by his side at his first public appearance and she wasn't going to disappoint him. She had to admit that Harry had been a bear during the time he was confined to the Prometheus Institute building. It certainly didn't help that the media was starting to see the new CEO of PI as some sort of agoraphobic nut job, never leaving his offices and penthouse except to get a coffee across the street. However, tonight - the night when Harold Saxon could finally walk the streets of Melbourne without fear of being found by his enemies - she knew he would be able to come into his own and she was thrilled to be there to see it happen.

She smoothed down her tight, well tailored Thai silk evening suit. Harry was taking her to the Philharmonic for the fund-raiser tonight. It was to celebrate the launching of the first satellite, supposedly put in place to provide people with less expensive communication channels. Harry hadn't told her exactly what it would do, only that it would take a few years before its potential could be utilized.

A knock drew her attention away from her mirror. A moment later, the door opened, allowing the man who was foremost on her mind to enter.

Harry regarded her form appreciatively. "You are stunning," he complimented.

She smiled. "Thank you. I loved how the color shimmered. I thought you might like it."

"Oh, yes," he agreed, striding towards her to take her into his arms. "Very much so." He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Makes it very tempting to ignore dinner and go straight for... dessert."

Peri's eyes widened slightly at the statement. She felt electricity race through her body at his words which were more like what he used to say to her than the ones they'd tended to share in the lab recently. With a smile, she answered, "I so love dessert. It's the best part of a meal." Her words were plain but the double entendre was clear to anyone who might be listening for it.

His grin widened considerably. It had been such a long time since he'd allowed himself the permission to blatantly flirt with the woman who had captured his imagination. However, the thought that Lothos may be listening in was better than a cold shower and his grin dropped abruptly. "Well, we'll just have to see what's on the menu. Are you ready?"

"Yes... the menu" she said thoughtfully, confused by his mercurial change. Morphing rapidly into her professional mode, she stated, "You must be excited to be able to leave the building tonight. I know, with the satellite's successful launch, Lothos wanted you to be seen by the media and tonight's performance would provide that opportunity."

He sighed slightly. "Well, can't have the press think I'm a recluse. The media doesn't like a recluse." He gently brushed a stray hair off of his jacket before offering his arm. "Shall I escort you, Dr. Langford, to our limousine?" Calling her by her last name reinforced the professional level he wanted to maintain... at least for now. "Come on. We'll be late for the fundraiser."

She nodded almost imperceptivity. Retrieving her Chanel clutch purse, she walked beside Harry out of her suite knowing that her life could never go back to the way it was before she met him.

Dinner was a simple yet elegant affair with little press as they entertained the dignitaries and donors to PI's "charitable causes." The concert, on the other hand, was a completely different situation. Reporters from every news agency were waiting for new PI CEO Dr. Harold Saxon and his assistant, former PI CEO Dr. Periwinkle Langford, outside the concert hall. The Master stopped for them as expected, giving a few words about the Pi Network and assuring the press that, once in place, Pi would change the way they looked at communications forever.

There were a few questions called out to Peri as to her apparent fall from chief executive to her role as an assistant to her successor. Peri smiled kindly and stated that she had agreed to the role wholeheartedly when the Pi Network concept had been launched. "It's always a great experience to work with a genius like Harold Saxon," she finished.

The Master quickly ended the impromptu question and answer session with a wave as he and Peri walked into the concert hall, knowing that the press wouldn't be allowed follow them in. The concert itself was thoroughly enjoyable. Saxon spent most of the concert with his eyes closed, concentrating on every nuance that came from the musical instruments as he and Peri sat comfortably in their box, his fingers tapping with the music, occasionally slipped into the familiar four beat rhythm he tended towards whenever he was thinking. Once the concert was finished, his eyes finally opened and he smiled towards her.

"Peri... do you trust me?" he questioned.

She looked up into his eyes. "Yes. Completely."

He stood up abruptly at her words and took her hand. "Come with me," he ordered. They moved quickly through the building and into the men's restroom, the door of which the Master locked behind them. He reached into his pocket, pulling out an odd-looking metallic box. Flicking a switch on the device - which caused it to hum gently - he put it just in front of the door. "That will keep anyone from hearing us in here," he informed her. "Take off your top."

Her heart almost skipped a beat at his request, and she thought that perhaps... finally... the moment had come. She was glad she'd worn the bustier and garter belt under her suit. "Just my top?" she teased wickedly, starting to unbutton the suit jacket.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver and a handkerchief. "Hurry it up," he ordered.

"What are you going to do with that?" she asked, thinking that perhaps he was kinkier than she'd believed. The thought excited her even more. As she laid the jacket to the side, she began to loosen the tie on her white silk camisole.

"Well, eventually, I'm going to make it a laser screwdriver but that's irrelevant to the matter at hand."

"And the matter of hand is?"

Moving closer to her, he looked into her eyes. "I want you by my side when my plans for your world come to fruition. Will you stay by my side, no matter what?"

She nodded. "I want to be no other place than by your side, Harry."

He grinned manically at her words. "I was hoping you would say that." Raising the cylindrical object, he put it right behind her head. He put his other arm around her waist, as if to support her weight. "This is going to hurt," he warned before flicking a switch on the device.

The scream that filled the room didn't seem to bother him as he tightened his hold on Peri's form, preventing her from falling to the floor. He noted the trickle of blood coming from her ear as he shut off the device. Tucking his sonic screwdriver into his coat pocket, he carefully dabbed at the leaking blood with his handkerchief.

"It's okay," he assured her in a whisper, noting that some blood had stained her white camisole. "I can get that blood out easily enough. Hard to get such nice clothes at decent prices these days." He paused, stepping back enough for her to see his face. "Lothos doesn't know what I've done yet. You'll be safe from him."

"What did you do?" she asked, breathing heavily as the pain subsided and not sure why Harry would wound her. She kept her eyes closed and wished she could do the same for her ears as light and sound had become like fists to her senses.

"I fried your implants. They're deactivated. Permanently." He put the handkerchief in her one of her hands before searching his pockets for another.

Her eyes opened slightly at the words, raw pain once again assaulting her. She put the handkerchief to her eyes before demanding, "The implants? They're gone?"

He dabbed some more at the blood slowly trickling from her ear. "Nawtplitian technology. Crude but effective and easily disabled." He looked into her quite literally bloodshot eyes and smiled. "I have, for all intents and purposes, freed you from Lothos' control. If you wanted, you could just run from this hall and never come back. But I'm hoping that you come back with me. I'd be lost without you."

She licked at her lips. "I told you, Harry. I'm by your side as long as you'll have me." She stopped for a moment. "But that hurt. That _really_ hurt. Couldn't you have done this a little less... painfully?"

"Not without killing you," he replied plainly. "Now, we need to get going. I doubt that the janitor wants us to occupy the men's room for too long. Can you walk on your own?"

"I think so," she said. She started to use her hands to feel for her clothing. "I'd better pull myself together first."

Hands stopped her actions, pulling hers from her top. "Not just yet," Saxon told her softly. Going to a nearby sink, he ran the water and wetted a paper towel thoroughly. Then, with surprising gentleness, he carefully cleaned away as much of the blood from her as he could see, insuring that the bleeding had stopped. Leaning forward, he lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing along the curve and causing her to pant excitedly before picking up her discarded top. "Would you like me to put your jacket back on?" he offered.

"Not necessarily. I could lose the rest of these clothes, you know." She'd pulled herself closer to him.

His eyebrows went up at the blatant invitation she had presented to him despite obviously still being in some considerable discomfort and in a less than romantic spot. "I'd like that," he agreed. "Not in here, though, and certainly not in your physical condition. Can't risk being locked in the hall overnight. What would the media say? Besides, we have a limousine waiting for us." He handed her top to her and allowed her to slip on the garment, steadying her as she did so. The moment she was once again suitable for public viewing, he retrieved the device he'd placed by the door, shutting it off. Ensuring that everything was properly gathered and situated, he gently put an arm around her shoulder and led her through the door and out of the hall, where the limousine was parked just to the right. Strolling towards it, he gave a nod to the driver as he opened the back door for them. Allowing Peri to slip in first, he followed. He'd been planning to wait until they got back to the suite before he took what he'd desired for several months. However, her words still echoed in his ears and he knew he had to have her sooner rather than later. He barely waited until the door was closed before pulling her roughly to the floor of the vehicle and pinning her.

It wasn't gentle in any sense of the word as the two of them rolled, nipped, pushed, pinched, and pressed into each other at a frenzied pace, causing the limousine to shake and rock. He'd checked the vehicle earlier and had disabled the hidden cameras that Lothos had implanted. He'd also made sure there was a privacy shield that could not be taped through. The driver might be curious but fortunately, Saxon knew that he could rely on the driver's discretion. After all, if the driver wasn't discrete, there was a far worse fate than having his employment terminated in store for him. There was a good reason why the employees at PI were afraid of him.

Peri felt absolutely alive as Harry spent himself in their lovemaking. By the time the limousine had pulled up to the PI building, she was not at all the well pulled together woman she'd been at the start of the evening, though she was finally feeling much less pain from the implants' disablement.

The Master watched with a smile as Peri staggered out of the vehicle, drunk with passion, her hair and clothes a mess. He himself looked very much as if he'd been the center of attention in a mosh pit at a Metallica concert. But that didn't bother him in the least. If anything, he felt invigorated with the thought that the neighbors might be able to see them. If they had neighbors. Taking Peri's hand, he guided her through the main doors, waving the limousine away as he did so. When they got into the elevator, they once again found themselves with their lips interlocked. If it hadn't been for the Master's keen hearing, they might not have heard the ping that indicated they'd arrived at his penthouse. Practically forcing himself to pull away from her, he went ahead of her to open the door, closing it behind them as he ensured the lighting was low before going to pour them both a drink.

"So, my dear, what will it be?" he questioned.

Peri blinked. Harry had her head in a tail spin. "What?" she asked. It wasn't the first time he had changed directions so suddenly.

"To drink," he clarified. "What do you want to drink?"

"Oh. Um... vodka martini. Dirty."

He smiled at her choice, making the alcoholic beverage before bringing to her. He raised his own scotch on the rocks to her. "_Slante_," he wished her before taking a gulp.

She responded in kind. "_Slante_." After taking a sip, she commented, "Strong."

He chuckled at her comment. "Ah, but you can handle it. I do suggest, though, that you eat a few biscuits or something." He took another drink as he walked over to one of his couches. Slumping into it, and miraculously not spilling a drop, he propped his feet on the coffee table in front of him.

She moved to him and put her drink on the table before sitting beside him on the couch. As much as she'd been enjoying the attentions he'd been bestowing on her, she needed to know why. She glanced around the room, making sure that Lothos' nodes were dark, thus assuring her that they were alone. "Harry? For the last few months, you've been... well... somewhat colder than before. Tonight..." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the remembered feelings. "Tonight was fantastic. I don't think I've ever been so thoroughly satisfied. Were the implants the reason you stayed so distant?"

"Ah, my, what a clever little ape you are," the Master complimented with a gleam in his eyes. "You are absolutely correct in your assessment, Dr. Langford."

She was slightly surprised by his odd endearment but felt he was just teasing her. "And now that They're gone... we can... explore some more?"

He turned bodily to face her. "Now that they're gone, my dear, we can go at it like a couple of horny bunnies if you want."

"Yes. I want that very much." She moved in closer to him quickly, pressing her lips to his and giving him a long, deep, and obviously overdue kiss.

He responded to her in kind, his aggression far more pronounced. Pulling away to give her a chance to breathe, he growled in her ear. "You belong to me, Peri. Not Lothos. Me." He looked into her eyes firmly.

"Yes... Master..." she breathed out before they moved magnetically together again.

Neither paid attention to the passage of time as the Master proved to Peri just how serious and possessive he could be of his property.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

It was nine thirty in the morning when the Master walked down from his suite towards his lab while Peri went up to her office to attend to various issues. Walking through the corridors, he whistled merrily, ignoring the curious looks he received as he practically hopped into his lab and went over to the worktable. While the first Pi Network satellite was now in orbit and production of the remaining satellites was at full tilt, there were still plenty of other little interests he wanted to work on.

The previous evening had certainly been a coup for him, having finally bedded the one woman in the whole complex who held even the slightest bit of his interest. In addition, he now also had a firm follower, one who would, when the time was right, defy Lothos at a single command from him. It was no wonder, then, that he felt as if he were standing at the very top of the world, especially after having such poor luck in the past with Lothos' upper management.

He had just entered his lab and was in the process of bringing out a writing tablet when a voice broke into the room.

"You seem uncharacteristically cheerful, Master."

"It's a beautiful day. Or hadn't you noticed? Of course, you hadn't. You aren't interested in mundane things like pleasure."

"Pleasure is for the corporeal," the voice said. There was a pause. "I saw your performance at the concert last night. The fools have no idea what's in store for them."

"I'm glad you appreciated my sense of the dramatic," the Master replied. "At a rate of four or five satellites a year being launched, the whole Earth should be covered in less than five years. After that, it'll be a simple thing to activate and coordinate their hidden programs and thus take over the world."

"I'll give it to you, no human has ever figured out how to do that. You truly are the Master." He paused. "I'm surprised Peri did not come in with you today."

"Oh, she did. She's in her office right now. But you already knew that, otherwise you wouldn't be bringing up the subject."

There was a change in the lighting. Lothos' voice was harder when it returned. "No. I did not. There is something wrong. Her implants are malfunctioning. I'll need to adjust them."

"Adjust them? How?"

"I'll need to fill her office with a sedative. Then she will be taken to Dr. Franson for a diagnosis. If they can be revived, he will do so. Otherwise, new implants will be inserted."

The Gallifreyan stiffened at Lothos' words, realizing that Peri would be once again under Lothos' watchful eye. "You can't," he said abruptly.

"Why not?" Lothos asked.

"Because I will not allow it."

"You... will... not... _allow_ it?" the disembodied voice asked, each word said with more anger.

"You heard me. Periwinkle Langford is mine."

"Dr. Periwinkle Langford is my employee, if you recall. She works for me. That doesn't change just because you're working with me now."

"Periwinkle is my assistant. Technically, she works for me."

"The fact that we are partners is why she is your assistant. She works for the Prometheus Institute and that's mine. You are the only being I have not assured has implants." There was a short pause. "But that could be remedied."

"Like hell it could!" the Master returned vehemently, anger reddening his eyes. He took a minute to calm himself down before he addressed the node again. This time, his voice was low and calm but clearly dangerous. "If you want to have everything I've promised you to date, don't ever make that threat again." While he knew Lothos believed his words to be nothing more than empty threats, the Master was wise to his partner-by-necessity enough to take certain precautions Lothos knew nothing about. There was another short pause as he reset himself to the mood he'd been in prior to Lothos' unwise statement. "As to Peri... that's about to change. You said that I could have anything I need to insure the successful implementation of the plan. And I need Dr. Langford."

"I've given you her services. She seems quite happy to provide anything you may ask for and has, at least once, agreed to do far more. What more do you need?"

"Oh, please!" the Master rolled his eyes, leaning back on his lab stool. "I'm about to give you every human being on the face of this planet and you're squabbling with me over one human female?"

"It is my policy to not allow anyone to work at the Institute without implants. You..." he started deciding to follow his partner's warning. "...are the sole exception..." The voice became silent but, a moment later, a much more surprised sound emanated. "They aren't malfunctioning! You destroyed them!" he e accused.

"And so what if I did?" the Time Lord countered, his voice rising slightly. "She's mine to do with as I please. She's been mine for over a year now, whether you want to admit it or not."

"We're supposed to be partners in these endeavors. You had no right to..."

"I have every right! Without me, you won't have the Pi Network and all it promises!" He took a deep breath to calm himself again before giving the ceiling a glare. "All I ask for is Peri," he told the computer. "I have great plans for her."

Suspicion replaced the surprise. "And what would those plans be?"

"Nothing that would interfere with _our _plans. What do you care happens to her? She's just one of your employees, one you demoted, I might remind you."

"I only demoted her because you came along and it only made sense. But she's always been loyal to me... since before I entered this computer and afterwards. She wouldn't even be here if I hadn't groomed her, educated her, and in all ways provided what was necessary to allow her to become the person you know now. If I were to give her to you, she would not be allowed into my operations center any longer," he warned.

"Fine. I don't want her there anyway," the Gallifreyan retaliated. "But I will need her to have access to this lab."

"Fine. Use her. But, if she does anything to undermine the Institute's work both public and secret she will pay the price," Lothos stated.

"She won't," the alien replied firmly. "She knows the importance of our work to me. She won't go against my wishes." He stopped for a moment as he realized exactly what Lothos had just said. "'Use her?' What do you think I've been doing since you appointed her as my assistant? It's clear you don't understand what I'm telling you. I want her... totally." It was becoming clear that the cyborg wasn't about to give up what he had worked so hard to gain without having some gain in return. He gave a hint of a smile. "Tell you what. Fair trade. You give me Periwinkle Langford and I'll give you Dr. Samuel Beckett."

"How?" Lothos asked with interest.

"You let me worry about that. Trust, Lothos. You have to learn to trust. I'm trusting you every day with my very existence."

"You ask me to trust you but why should I? I've provided the lion's share of this partnership. The satellites wouldn't even be built if not for my fortune. I want to know exactly what I'm getting out of this proposed deal of yours."

"Did I not fix the error in your retrieval program?" the Master pointed out. "Or align the matrixes of your leaping program to eliminate the 'Swiss-cheese effect,' as you call it? What about the bioelectric field surrounding your headquarters, preventing any unwanted entry into the building? Or the new funding my influence as CEO is generating already after only one public foray? Have I ever once made a promise to you and did not fulfill it? And at the end of all this, I'm giving you the whole world! Isn't that enough?"

"Well... due to the extreme costs and resource constraints I've had to put my time travel project on hold. Still, when you put it like that..." Lothos conceded. "And getting Beckett would be worth almost anything..." he said with an evil chuckle. "I think this may actually be an offer I can't refuse. Peri is yours."

The Master smiled, glad that Lothos was seeing things his way at last. "What do you plan to do with him once I've given him to you?"

The light brightened. "I'm going to make sure he suffers like he made me suffer."

"Really. How?" He was honestly interested in the details of Lothos' intentions.

"Well, one of the additions I made in my project is the ability to warp the leap parameters. I've used it to provide correction to my leapers when they haven't done what I've expected them to do. The longest I've kept someone in that field has been thirty minutes. I plan to push that envelope with Beckett far past that limit. I can just hear that do-gooder screaming for mercy. What a lovely sound." Although the semi-cyborg had claimed he didn't pursue pleasure, the tone in his voice showed this thought was very pleasurable to him. "I figure that's good for a start."

"Sounds particularly nasty. Extremely painful, in point of fact." The alien smiled at the thought. "I'll have to find something similar for the Doctor. I mean, seeing him grovel is all well. But I think a few screams would be nice."

Lothos answered, "I think so too."

"Of course, I didn't say I would be able to give him to you alive," the Master insisted.

"Not alive?" The sound was that of a child who'd been told that they wouldn't get their favorite birthday present.

"I will try my best," the Time Lord replied in a coddling manner. "But one way or the other, you will have Beckett at your feet… that is, if you had feet. And, if I do have to kill him to get him here, I'll see if I can't record a scream or two so that you can replay the sound at will."

"That's damned generous of you," Lothos said with sarcastic appreciation. "Just be sure you deliver," he warned, his voice turning ominous.

"My pleasure," the Master replied, a hint of sarcasm to match the tone in Lothos' voice about the Time Lord's generosity. The Gallifreyan was beginning to think that the only decent thing to come out of the Prometheus Institute was his own plans. That and the particularly intelligent and beautiful human named Periwinkle Langford who now had finally been acknowledged as his. The day was certainly going very well.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne, Australia_

_July 2006_

Five months.

That was how long Harold Saxon and Periwinkle Langford had been involved with each other, sharing a bed on a regular basis. The Master had to admit that the last several months had been absolutely marvelous. Peri was amazing in bed, dangerous and innovative. There were many mornings when he would wake with noticeable wounds on his neck, shoulders, and lips where she had bitten and scratched him. Then again, he had reciprocated the favor on those occasions, making the two of them look more like survivors of a horror movie than lovers. Well, perhaps not quite that bad but it certainly provoked much talk amongst the employees of the Prometheus Institute. The Master even had more opportunities to watch just how original she could be with breaking in new recruits, an activity he allowed her to participate in only because she enjoyed it so very much.

Yes, life with his new mistress was indeed a grand thing... and that's what had the Time Lord terrified beyond reason. He'd found himself literally unable to think unless he had a kiss from the woman every morning. He was making it a daily habit to go up to her office to see how she was coming along and even, Rassilon forbid, making her coffee! Could it be that he, the Master – the foremost rebel of all the Time Lord rebels – was going... domestic? He shivered physically at the thought as Peri walked into his lab, coming over to kiss him.

He turned abruptly from her, moving away quickly. "You wanted me for something, Dr. Langford?"

Peri stopped in mid stride. "Is something wrong, Harry?"

"Yes. You are interrupting my work," he answered, not meeting her eyes. "Now, what is it that you want? I'm a very busy man."

"But you..." she started, confused, before frowning. "I don't know what game you're playing right now but I'm really not in the mood for it. Lothos has decided that our team's losing Teddy again. I just don't get him sometimes! How does he expect us to work on a shoestring?"

"Lothos can be a bit petulant but we must work with what we've been given," the Time Lord replied with disinterest in his voice. "Is that why you are here? To complain?"

"No..." She didn't understand it. Usually Harry didn't defend Lothos. It had become almost a ritual for them. Now Harry was acting... distant. "Listen, Harry. I don't know what you're thinking right now and while you may be a telepath I'm not. You think you can give me a hint or something about what's got your knickers in a twist?"

The Master raised his head at her words, his eyes blazing. "How dare you speak to me in such a fashion! I don't owe an explanation to a pathetic lower life form such as you."

Peri stepped back as if she'd been physically hit. "Harry?" she asked tentatively. She moved forward with concern. "What's wrong? Something's happened. I can feel it. Maybe I can help?" Her hands reached out to comfort him. As she did, a slight glow from the ceiling would have announced that a third entity had entered the room if either had been paying attention.

The Gallifreyan took a step back, more to distance himself from what could happen rather than from her physically. He couldn't let himself get distracted from his current goal, namely putting as much emotional distance as possible between him and the female human, even though a voice in his mind was yelling at him to... apologize, of all things! "Help? Me? With what?" he questioned sarcastically. "What could you possible help me with? I'm a genius. I don't need your help." He turned around, talking to the empty air, any place but having to look into her stricken eyes. "In fact, I think that perhaps you should be released for other duties. Your obvious talents are being wasted in this lab. I'll discuss with Lothos what you can do to help move the Pi Network forward."

"Harry?" she tried once more.

"Oh, would you please shut the hell up, you stupid ugly ape!" he shouted at her, turning to glare at her for a moment before discovering the act was a bad idea and turning away. "I have enough on my plate than to put up with your irritating whiny feminine neediness. By Rassilon, can you be anymore pathetic?"

As he spoke to her, her eyes kindled with flame and her hands clenched. Enraged by his verbal attack, she moved quickly towards him and slapped his face hard with an open palm before turning and walking away without a word.

The Master eyed where Peri had exited the room, stunned by her reaction even though he knew he shouldn't be. Slowly raising his hand, he rubbed the sting from his face. "Damn, she's got a strong arm," he muttered, ignoring that voice again, the one that was telling him to apologize to her.

"Lover's spat?" a voice said, coming from a node.

"Mind your own damn business," the Gallifreyan growled, marching to a lab table before scribbling on a notepad.

"This is my business." The light glowed thoughtfully. "Does this mean I can have her back?"

The Master frowned slightly at the question. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, you were the one that insisted she be 'yours.' I never did think it was a good idea but you seemed so... desirous. And you did promise me Beckett."

"So, are you saying that you don't want Beckett anymore?"

"Bite your tongue," came back the quick answer.

"That would be painful," the Time Lord replied sardonically.

"Not any more painful than having to have your ex-lover around. I'm intrigued. What do you have in mind for her... new duties."

"I don't know. Whatever you want. Just... send her away for a while," he instructed the entity with a wave.

"Well, our other offices are asking for someone to play to the media in their locations. We could send her on a PR trip."

The Master considered the suggestion. "She is the most suitable for the job. No one plays to the cameras like she does... well, other than me, of course. And she knows Pi just as well as I do." He nodded. "Very well. Do it. Send her around the world. We could use the advertisement at this stage of development."

"And you're sure you don't want me to take her off your hands... reinsert the implants? That way, she'd be fully controlled."

"No!" came the sudden and definitive answer as the Gallifreyan's head shot up abruptly. "You keep those implants out! She's mine!"

"Hmmm. It's been awhile since I had to worry about such relationships but... you've got it bad."

"I do not!" he protested loudly. "She's a human, for Rassilon's sake! I have absolutely no interest in her in that way! That's just disgusting! She's just been a nice diversion, that's all, and I'm bored with her neediness." He stopped when he realized his tone of voice sounded like he was protesting too much. "However, she's still a valuable assistant and I don't want any implants in her for any reason whatsoever. Besides, I trust her loyalty. Don't you?"

"Whatever. Lead a horse to water..." the voice mumbled. "I'll get her itinerary prepared. Shall I inform her of her new duties or do you wish to do so... since she's still your property?"

"Do what you want with her as long as you remember that she_ is_ my property and that you are using her with permission from me," the Master told him, returning to his doodling.

"She'll be on the first leg of her assignment tomorrow, then." The voice paused. "Enjoy the rest of your day," it continued, a smirk in its tone. With that, the light went dark.

Snarling with frustration, the Time Lord picked up a circuit board and threw it at the darkened node. "Thanks load, 'HAL!'" he derided the node, referencing the insane computer from the film "2001: A Space Odyssey." Looking down, he realized that he had just destroyed the circuit board he'd been working on for the last five weeks. Sighing, he dropped his head onto his lab table. This really wasn't his day.


	14. Chapter 13

_Sorry for the long delay in chapter postings. I'll try to be more prompt from now on._

_Okay, we've established the Master and Peri's current relationship so we can get back to Cardiff. Yay!_

_Again, a reminder. We love reviews. We love that you are following us and reading our story but we want to know what you think so please tell us. It's very hard for us to know if anyone is even reading the story when we don't get reviews. We've only had 2 reviews for this story so far, 7 for this one and for "5 Stages of Grief", the first story to our epic. It's very discouraging. So, please, if you are reading and enjoying the story, review._

**Chapter 13**

_Cardiff, Wales_

_August 2006_

Toshiko Sato was lost in her own world as she scanned the airwaves. She did this whenever she was bored. While the computer at Torchwood was not nearly as interesting as the one she occasionally worked with in New Mexico, it did serve its purpose. Jack had asked her to regularly do a full world scan to see if there was anything they should be aware of and she'd already been through her normal search parameters of the Middle East, India, Southeast Asia and the rest of the world. Now she was on her way to Europe, the UK to be exact.

"Who's that?" Suzie asked as she looked up to see a rather attractive woman's face on the screen.

Tosh looked at the caption below the picture. "Dr. Periwinkle Langford of the Prometheus Institute," she answered the second in command of Torchwood Cardiff. "She's been on a PR tour for the organization for the past month and a half. I found references to her visits in Asia and she is due in the UK next month, visiting London, Cardiff, Glasgow, and Dublin before going onto Paris."

Suzie frowned. "Prometheus Institute? Where have I heard that before?"

"It's a philanthropic non-profit organization. Most recently, they've been involved in a new plan to revolutionize communications worldwide. They say that by 2010 the system will be in place and the way people talk with each other will be totally different," Tosh told her. "According to this article, the Prometheus Institute was started about thirty years ago by Ellington Charles Wrightsworth II and was later inherited by his son, Ellington Charles Wrightsworth III, who apparently was killed in an accident shortly after he inherited it. It then went into the hands of some private investors."

"Now, I remember. They had a charity event at the Royal Albert Hall a few years ago. Something about a scholarship fund for science education or some such thing. It was a great concert." She thought for a moment. "Maybe I can get tickets to see her. What else did you find out about PI?"

"Well, apparently, their CEO has been a bit of a hermit up until about six months ago. Since then he has been making a lot of appearances. My understanding is he's decided to expand beyond just educating people about science," Tosh told her, pulling up the picture of Harold Saxon. "He's moving PI into a new era, saying aligned global communications is the key to the betterment of mankind."

Jack had joined them, having overheard their conversation. "He's right." The Captain was intrigued. This wasn't supposed to take place for at least two centuries. "How is he planning to do it?"

"He calls it the Pi Network," Tosh told him. "It's a collection of communications satellites due to launch over the next few years. They launched their first one about six months ago and the second a couple of months after that. The satellites are supposed to link up to every communications device on Earth, allowing literally instant communication everywhere including current dead zones."

"Pretty impressive plan," Jack agreed. It bothered him a little that the timeline seemed to have shifted. He was used to that happening but, when it went further off-field than usual, it always gave him pause. He wondered if he should give Al a call and see if any of Sam's most recent missions may have lead to this change.

"You're thinking it might be too impressive, aren't you?" Suzie asked knowingly.

"As I said, this..." He turned to Tosh. "What's the CEO's name again?"

"Harold Saxon," she answered. She turned towards him questioningly. "Want me to do a little research? Find out more about him?"

"Maybe later," Jack answered before turning back to Suzie. "This Saxon is right. Fully linked global communications will... should... lead to all sorts of wonderful innovations. It could lead to a golden age for mankind."

"And yet you are still suspicious of him," she pointed out. "Don't even bother trying to hide it from me, Jack. I've known you for too long."

"I'm suspicious of everybody, Suzie."

She shrugged slightly. "No wonder you never have a steady date," she teased.

"I just don't have the time."

"You don't make the time. There's a difference. Then again, neither do I so I shouldn't be complaining," she added derogatorily.

"There you go." He looked at his watch. "And since none of us have dates tonight, how about I take both of you out for dinner? It's been awhile since we all just kicked back a little and, even though I know you're both fully capable of taking care of yourselves, there have been way too many murders of women in this city in the past ten months."

"Don't blame you there. I've resorted to carrying pepper spray everywhere I go, even in broad daylight." Tosh blinked when she realized what he was offering. "Dinner?" she questioned. "You want Marcus and Owen to come as well?"

"I would love for them to join us as well but, unfortunately, Marcus is on patrol and Owen's already scheduled to watch the Hub... if he gets here on time, that is."

Suzie laughed. "Yeah. Why don't we put a wager on it? How long after his shift is supposed to start that he actually arrives?"

"I'm down for forty-five," Tosh put in.

"Fifteen," Jack stated firmly and with authority.

"And I'll split the difference at 30 minutes," Suzie put in.

"Plus or minus five minutes for all of us?" Jack suggested.

"And if it's in a time not covered with that?" Tosh asked.

"Nobody wins," he grinned at her. "And the losers pay for drinks after dinner."

"I thought you were taking us out..." Tosh complained.

"For dinner," Jack pointed out. "Hey, the State may pay my wages but I still have bills to pay. So... do we have a deal? Dinner and a wager? We all have to eat and, as Suzie says, none of us are exactly burning up the singles pages. So...?" The two women continued to look at him. "Listen, I don't offer this kind of thing often so, if you want to do it, now would be the time."

"Strictly friends, right?" Tosh asked, just to ease her mind.

"Do I look like the kind of man who would come on to you?" he feigned offense.

"In a heartbeat," Suzie replied.

Jack smiled. "Okay. You're right. But not tonight. Dinner only."

"You got a deal," the second agreed, returning the smile. Tosh also agreed and the three of them left as soon as Owen arrived - twenty five minutes late.

"You both owe me a drink," Suzie grinned at her co-workers as they walked out, Owen scratching his head at what that was all about.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne, Australia_

_September 2006_

Reginald Torkinson sat at his desk in the reception area of Harold Saxon's office. He'd only been on the job for ten days but, since Dr. Langford left, that had turned out to be a record of sorts. Most of the fifteen assistants that had been assigned to the mercurial CEO of PI had lasted an average of four days and the longest before Reginald had been eight days. Reggie, as his few buddies called him, wasn't sure if the record was grounds for celebration or evidence that his life was definitely cursed.

He sighed. He'd worked for PI for the last two years in various capacities but this was the first time he'd been asked to be a personal assistant. He could understand why Lothos would have asked him, however. After all, there were only a few savvy souls in the admin pool that had refused on some viable grounds that they just couldn't work as an assistant for the CEO. Those few were the only ones that hadn't spent at least a short time in the depths of the complex being 'disciplined' for the offence of upsetting the Master. From the stories told, the offences had been as grievous as wearing the wrong perfume or as ludicrous as not having his tea and milk at the proper temperatures.

Reggie was one of those people that made sure everything was perfect to the nth degree. While that usually made people steer a wide berth from him, in this position it was actually an asset. No one could guess what would set the man off. Torkinson's style was to check, recheck, and then check the recheck before moving forward. Somehow, that had kept him out of any serious trouble up to now. Still, he was on pins and needles, sure that at some point something would happen and he'd be the one screaming as Lothos' guards assured that he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

The Master marched into the reception area, having come down from his suite, obviously in a foul mood. Ever since Peri had left him for the PR tour, no one had been able to do anything right. The constant drums in his mind had grown louder without her presence. His tea was always cold, his coffee was always too hot, his biscuits and scones were always too hard, the bed was never made correctly forcing him to sleep in the guest bed instead... in short, nothing was done correctly since she'd left. As if to prove this undeniable fact, some idiot had dared to be in his way as he was trying to step out of the lift. Oh, the sod had ran off when the Master had informed him of his incompetence but the Time Lord had seen the technician's badge and was determined to teach the bungling prick a lesson in manners.

"Torkinson!" he called out as he strode towards his office, causing the assistant to jump to his feet immediately. "Tom Baker. Have that insolent, thick-skulled cretin sent to the torture chambers immediately!"

Torkinson blinked. "Yes, Master. Whatever you want, Master. It shall be done immediately." He started to make the call to the guards as his boss moved quickly to enter his office. "Um... excuse me... sir... I... ummm... I... well... I..."

"Spit it out, Torkinson! I don't have all day!"

"Well, sir... what shall I tell the guards Tom Baker did? I'm sure that whatever it was had to be horrid and offensive but... they do need to know such things for their records. Lothos is quite a stickler about records, you know."

The Gallifreyan glared at him. "How useless are you! While you're at it, report yourself to the chambers..."

At that moment, the light in one of the ever-present nodes began to glow. "Saxon!" the disembodied voice shouted before he continued in a tone deceivingly calm. "We need to talk. Now."

"Not now, HAL. I'm busy!" the Master berated, glowering at the node.

"Yes. _ Now_!" the voice insisted. "Torkinson, just tell the guards that Baker was rude and tell them to give him their standard warning that this will go into his personnel file for future reference should he find himself at their mercies again."

"A warning?!" the Master protested. While the standard warning was not a pleasant thing, it was far less than what the Time Lord felt the imbecile deserved.

"Let's go into your office, Harold. There are reasons why a warning is sufficient." After a short pause, Lothos said more forcefully, "Torkinson, I gave you an order. Now, get on it or else."

"Ye... ye... yes, sir." the admin said cringing slightly. He went back to his desk and relayed the message, seeing the man who had become the terror of PI stomp into his office, relieved that he'd been spared but all the more certain it was only a matter of time.

The Gallifreyan growled, giving Torkinson a hard look, as if he were the one who had countermanded his orders, before stepping into his office and slamming the door behind him. "You'd better have some very good reasons, Lothos. I am not in the mood."

"I'm not sure that's true. You are in the same exact mood you've been in since Dr. Langford left... at your insistence, as I recall."

"Only because this project of yours is filled with complete numbskulls who can't even make tea correctly!" the Master replied vehemently. "I'm mean, how hard is it to heat up some water and filter it through tea leaves?"

"Tea? You're going to complain about tea?" The semi-cyborg was exasperated. "Do you know how much work isn't getting done because a significant number of the Prometheus Institute personnel are currently undergoing disciplinary actions which you have ordered? I mean, I enjoy a good torture session as much as the next man, but... over tea?"

The Time Lord bristled at Lothos' words. "I... like tea."

"I noticed."

"And they don't make it properly."

"Then make it yourself! You've got to stop sending people to the guards. Normally, they enjoy their jobs but now all I get is complaints about the overtime cutting into their lives."

The Gallifreyan had started pacing as the disembodied intelligence spoke, running his hands through his hair. "I thought their jobs _were_ their lives."

"In general, that would be true. However, I do need to keep them healthy or else they're rather lethargic in performing their duties. That requires a little sleep and occasional R&R."

Saxon huffed slightly. "Humans need too much sleep," he grumbled.

"Agreed. But, until you can genetically alter them to forego it, it is necessary for a well operating team and I will not jeopardize my operation due to what you consider a bad cup of tea."

If a superior being could look like a reprimanded school boy, the Master certainly gave a good impersonation of one. "So... no more torture chamber?"

"I didn't say that. But you must be more judicious in your use of them." The voice paused. "Since Dr. Langford has left, you really do need to... branch out. Torture's fun, yes... but having a diversity of activities will go a long way to keeping your mind off of her."

The Master squinted. "I don't need to keep my mind off of Periwinkle Langford," he protested. "I hardly have the time to even think of her."

"Yes. You do. You may not realize it but you're walking around here like a love sick puppy and, quite frankly, it's becoming annoying... and it is completely unbecoming to you."

"All right. If I can't insure that things are to my standards... what do you suggest that I do to insure that they are if I can't torture anyone into submission? Write them a note asking them to be good little boys and girls?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you should use your creatively evil mind to figure that out. All I'm telling you is that for the next two weeks until the overflow work is leveled out, you don't get dungeon privileges."

"I feel like I've just been sent to my room without supper!" the Master protested. Seeing the lighting in the room shift slightly, he sighed. "Fine. Have it your way. I'll restrain myself in meting out dungeon sentences." He considered for a moment. "Maybe if I use my walking stick..."

"Just don't injure them to the point where they can't work. As I say, projects are not meeting their milestones due to the shortage of active personnel."

"Oh, you're no fun," groused the alien.

"No one said I have to be," Lothos responded. "Now that we've settled that, I need for you to look at the budget for the next stage of Pi Network development. I'd like to have your recommendations by noon today."

The Master rubbed the space between his eyebrows, wishing desperately that such mundane things as money and budgets weren't necessary for a successful plan to take over the world. "I'll take a look at it," he promised Lothos, going to his desk to do just that.

Fortunately for the rest of the complex, the morning went fairly quietly. The Master approved of the budget with a few minor changes and was well on his way to the more public aspects of the Prometheus Institute. It was looking as if the day would be a relatively relaxed one.

About eleven o'clock, there was a timid knock on the door.

"Enter," the Gallifreyan ordered, his eyes focused on the latest donation figures from the PR tour.

The door opened slowly and the Master's assistant, his face absolutely drained of blood, moved into the room. "Um... sir. A call has just come in and I'm afraid the news is not... um... well... good."

The Master's eyes rose to meet Torkinson's. "Whatever it is, Reginald, can't it wait until I've finished going over this report? You know how I hate interruptions."

"I really think this will be something you will want to know... being... um... well, she was your assistant for quite some time..."

_Peri_, the Master thought instantly, fear clutching at his hearts in spite of himself. He really didn't like the way Torkinson had used the word "was." Hiding his concerns with a well-acting sigh of resignation, he leaned back. "What is it, then?"

"Dr. Langford apparently was physically attacked after her appearance in Cardiff, Wales... about two hours ago. She's currently in a coma at the local hospital." Silence ruled the room, increasing the tension and making Reggie quake physically, certain that the Master would have him punished for being the bearer of bad news.

"Coma, you said," the Time Lord finally stated.

Reggie nodded, unable to speak at this point, afraid that anything he might say would set the man off.

Slowly, the Master stood from his desk, the reports he'd been reading immediately forgotten. He looked directly into Reggie's eyes, fire burning under his brown orbs. "You had better..." Before the Master could finish his sentence, Reggie, sure that the tone meant his doom, simply passed out. The Master watched the man collapse, his eyebrow rising slightly in surprise. "... get us on a private jet to Cardiff," he finished with a sigh. He rubbed his face slightly. "I suppose I did overdo it a bit these last two months. Never mind, Reginald. I'll do it myself. You enjoy your nap."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Cardiff, Wales_

_September 2006_

PC Gwen Cooper loved her job. It was stressful, yes. Dangerous? At times. Heartbreaking? Most definitely. But being a police officer meant that she was making a difference, that she was helping people, even if her job involved domestic disputes, breaking up brawls at the local pub, or acting as a human barrier between the public and a cordoned off area. And because she loved her job, she was good at it. She always searched for ways to improve herself by listening in on detective briefings in the squad room, taking classes to further her knowledge of criminology, practicing her profiling skills, and keeping a sharp eye out for details. She wasn't afraid to let any of the detectives know about some insight she had, aware that any bit of information to help their cases would be greatly appreciated. She even, occasionally, took up investigations on her own, always with the knowledge that she might have to bring in an officer of higher rank into the case if she gained enough evidence to support her inquiries. Everyone in the precinct knew that she was on the fast track to becoming a Detective Constable just as soon as there was an opening.

What was foremost on her mind lately was the string of homicides that seemed to plague the city of Cardiff. Women were being brutally raped and murdered. Profiling suggested that the murders were premeditated gang rapes, based on the different styles of abuse that could be found on the bodies and the fact that those responsible used every precaution to avoid leaving any DNA evidence, making finding the culprits all that more difficult. The biggest setback to the investigations, though, was the victims themselves. There didn't seem to be any pattern in the selection of victims. All of them varied in age from 21 to as old as 55, all of them very attractive but that seemed to be the only thing binding them together. They were all of different ethnicities, different backgrounds, different social status, different parts of the city. It seemed the only thing the rapists were looking for was beauty.

Women all over the city were terrified to leave their homes alone, especially after dark but that never stopped Gwen from going out with her mates. Her live-in boyfriend Rhys made a fuss about her going out, of course, as if she couldn't defend herself despite being a qualified police constable. He finally let her leave only after he had obtained a promise that she would call him from the pub and that she got a ride with her co-worker and friend PC Andy Davidson.

"Prerequisite call, just like I promised," she said into her phone as she stepped into the alley just off of the pub. "I know you're worried but I'm fine. Rhys, stop being an idiot. Where are you then? Yeah? Win anything?" She laughed as she listened to him continue to rant about how much he was losing at poker with his friends.

Looking up and down the alley to make sure that she was alone, she suddenly frowned, Rhys' words instantly far from her attention. Was something moving at the far end? Focusing on the area more intensely, her eyes widened when she realized not only that was something moving but also it appeared to be a seriously injured person.

"Listen, I've got to go," she interrupted her boyfriend as he went into a story his friend had relayed which involved some sort of relationship conflict. Ignoring his protests, she hung up and quickly hurried to the end of the alley where she had seen the movement. Dropping beside the person, she instantly recognized feminine features despite the horrendous damage that had been inflicted upon the naked woman.

"Oh, my god," Gwen exclaimed as she pulled out her mobile again and dialed a well-memorized number. "This is PC Cooper. I need medical immediately at the following address." Giving the location of the pub and instructions to go to the alley on the side of the building, she hung up once again before dialing another number. "Andy, find a first aid kit and as many clean towels as you can and get your arse out to the alley. Don't argue with me! Just do it!" she ordered, hanging up one last time before completely giving her attention to the wounded woman before her.

"It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine," she tried to reassure the woman who gazed up towards the sky with wide terrified blue eyes. "Help is on the way. What's your name?" Not getting a reaction, she pressed gently. "Come on. Look at me. Tell me your name." Even as she spoke, the side door opened, revealing Andy coming out with the demanded items. "Over here!" she shouted to him. "I've already called for an ambulance but she's bleeding badly."

"P… Peri…" the woman whispered tightly as Gwen and Andy worked together to stymie the blood loss.

Gwen smiled slightly, grateful that the woman was aware enough to finally answer her question. "Peri, I'm Gwen and this is Andy. We're going to stay with you until the ambulance comes. So you just stay with us, yeah?" Her cell phone rang but she ignored it, knowing that it was Rhys demanding to know what was happening. "Is there anyone you want me to call, Peri? Someone who will want to know where you are?"

There was a long silence as a tear escaped from Peri's eye, though no one could tell whether it was from physical or emotional pain. "No," she finally whispered. "H… Harry doesn't c… care anyway."

Gwen's face dropped at her words. Whoever Harry was, surely he would care that this brave woman – for it was obvious that she was in a great amount of pain and yet wasn't screaming, almost as if in defiance of the pain – had been raped, beaten, and left for dead. "Who's Harry, then?" she questioned. "Is Harry your boyfriend?"

The severely injured woman seemed to have difficulty in focusing on Gwen as she continued to try to keep her in the here and now. After a long moment, she took a shaky breath. "Te…te….tell Harry I love him e… even now. Even if he d… doesn't care, I love him. My man of all time…" A moment later, Gwen saw that her link to consciousness had weakened greatly. She watched as the woman's eyes rolled up into her head just before she collapsed into unconsciousness.

The ambulance arrived a few moments later and Gwen and Andy gave way to the EMTs. They provided what information they could and watched as the vehicle drove off.

"Well, Andy. It's in their hands now. Gawd, I hope she makes it." Gwen watched as the vehicle turned the corner. "I wonder who Harry is."

"Must be a right ol' bugger, if you ask me, considering what she said about him not caring what happens to her," Andy commented derogatorily. "At the very least she should have someone at her side that cares. It's a miracle you even saw her with how messed up she is."

Gwen nodded slightly for a moment before her eyes widened with realization. "Oh, bollocks! Rhys!" she exclaimed. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and pressed the necessary speed dial button, not noticing the sigh and looks of jealousy her sometimes partner gave as she started to talk to her boyfriend, explaining the situation that had just happened.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

It all seemed so surreal. She'd only just left the banquet given in her honor by the elite of the city, all excited about the possibilities the Pi Network would provide in terms of marketing products. They believed this technology would provide them with a goldmine and Peri wasn't about to let them know that only a select few would reap the benefits of the global communication.

Tonight, after the typical dinner and speech at the Wales Millennium Centre, she'd found she needed to take a walk and sent her driver and traveling companion away; Lothos had insisted that she at least have an assistant during her PR tour. Alone, she had headed out to the nearby dock with the intention of taking a cab back to the hotel once she was finished. Initially, there had only been the beauty of the evening and the fresh air... until she was approached by a man in his late twenties who seemed to be quite innocuous. He'd lulled her into believing there was nothing to fear and invited her to share a drink. However, when the other five had showed up on the quiet street, it became obvious that this young man would have been, under other circumstances, a person of interest for Lothos to recruit for his team. The men had forced her into a waiting car and drove her to an abandoned warehouse.

She had at first fought off the men that had kidnapped her and then taken her to the back of an alley that was obviously off the beaten path as no one had heard her initial screams, screams that had ended as a sharp knife had been placed against her neck with the promise that "fucking a dead woman wouldn't be problem." She had to live. She'd do anything she needed to survive.

So she stopped fighting as they pulled her in through a door at the end of the alley so that they were alone and undisturbed. Then, for an unknown amount of time – though it had to be at least a couple of hours - she'd been systematically raped, beaten, tortured and degraded. She knew there were six men, all who appeared to be under thirty years old.

When they'd left her, she knew they had believed she was dead. Her pursuit of the Eastern Arts had provided her with the ability to lower her vital signs to almost non-existent and it was only that which allowed this woman Gwen, who was doing her best to help her, to get help. Without that skill and the sheer determination that it took to crawl her way out of the small warehouse which had been her own personal hell and into this back alley, Peri knew she'd be dead.

Yet, even with that advantage, she knew she wouldn't be long for the world without medical aide. She hoped she'd receive it soon as she didn't want to die. Not like this. Still, she was well aware that there were no guarantees and, if she did die, there was one thing that she needed done.

Another tear left her eye as she thought of one of those few. Harry. Her only love. He'd made it clear that her feelings for him were not mutual although he'd seemed happy enough during their affair. She figured that, as a man who'd literally lived longer than many cultures on Earth had existed, he had only found her a minor diversion at best. She accepted that but it had hurt when he'd finally become bored with her human attentions. Still, despite his rejection, she had done her best to promote both his and Lothos' agenda.

Peri's connection with reality was tenuous at best. She thought she'd heard Gwen – she was sure now that was her name – ask her for her name. She tried her best to answer all the questions asked of her but she wasn't sure that she had said much of anything at all. The last thing she was aware of before she slipped into unconsciousness was the paramedics putting her into an ambulance.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Once Reginald had come back to his senses and realized that the Master wasn't going to send him to the dungeon for punishment, he obeyed the Time Lord's request to assist him in preparations for the journey to Cardiff. As he did so, he relayed all the information he had concerning the attack on Peri. The woman had been admitted into the hospital under the name of "Peri Doe" since the only identification they had on her came from the police constable who had found her in the alley. The next day, her assistant called the police when Peri hadn't returned to the hotel room. The police then escorted the assistant to the hospital where she identified her employer. While Peri's features were damaged beyond easy recognition, the assistant was able to verify her identification thanks to her distinctive deadly woody nightshade tattoo on her right collarbone.

The flight from Melbourne was long and tedious but fortunately, in the Master's opinion, he didn't have to worry about some schmuck snoring away beside him or cramped seating. And he certainly didn't have to worry about poor quality food and cold air blowing in his face. What he did have to worry about - or at least the flight attendants aboard the private jet were starting to believe - was the possibility of him falling through the floor of the plane due to the hole he seemed to be making with his continual pacing. It was only when the pilot informed the Time Lord of their landing that he was required to finally sit. As for sleep, it was furthest from his mind the entire thirty hour trip.

The moment the plane came to a halt on the tarmac and the stairs were lowered to allow departure, the Master marched down the stairs, determination playing on his face. Torkinson actually found his job suddenly easier as long as he did it quickly and efficiently. He followed the Master like the dutiful assistant he was, a pad in his hands as he walked.

"The car is waiting for you just beyond customs, sir, and the driver has already been informed to take you immediately to the hospital where Dr. Langford is being cared for."

The two went through customs quickly with Torkinson taking the lead role of working with the agents, allowing the Master to ignore most of the annoyance. It was a few minutes afterwards that the two found themselves in the waiting town car and on the road towards the heart of Cardiff. The trip itself was relatively quiet, even with Torkinson on the phone making sure that the check-in time at the hotel was later in the day and that Dr. Saxon would have dinner ready to be delivered the moment he called down for it.

Arriving at the hospital, they went to the information desk. "Where would we find Dr. Periwinkle Langford?" Torkinson asked the woman behind the desk.

The woman typed on her computer for a moment in search of the information. "I show a Peri Langford in intensive care. Other than her assistant, only family will be allowed to visit, I'm afraid. Hospital regulations."

"I have Dr. Langford's medical power of attorney with me," Torkinson indicated patting his briefcase. "I'd like to speak with the correct person to assure that Dr. Langford's... fiancé will be able to visit with her."

The Master couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Reginald's words but didn't negate them. After all, it did have its purposes. He did, however, glance to see the receptionist giving instructions to Reggie on how to get to the intensive care unit of the hospital, providing the name of Peri's doctor as a contact. Without a word and with the air of someone who expects to be followed, which he did, the Gallifreyan complied the verbal instructions and eventually found himself walking through the doors of the ward in which Peri was.

Once on the ward, Reggie spoke with the doctor and a few minutes later, a nurse came up to the Master. "I understand you're the fiancé. I must warn you, her injuries were significant and you may not recognize her."

He gave the nurse a sad smile. "I will always recognize my Peri, no matter how she looks," he assured her with confidence. It was obvious from the sympathetic look he received that the nurse doubted his word. Nevertheless, she escorted the Master to the room in question and allowed him to enter.

The Time Lord physically froze at the sight of the pale woman on the bed. Even from the distance between the bed and the door, it was plainly obvious that Peri had suffered horribly from the assault on her. Her face was almost hidden under bandages and bruises, her left arm and both of her legs were in casts.

"Oh, Rassilon, have mercy," he whispered in shock, his voice tight with emotion.

Torkinson turned as he heard the tone of the Master's voice. "Oh, my gawd!" he exclaimed. "That's Dr. Langford?"

Realizing that he wasn't alone in the room, the Time Lord turned to the nurse and requested that he be left alone with his '"fiancé." Reggie obviously took note of his request as both the nurse and he left together. The Master waited until he was alone before slowly approaching the bed. Closer, he could now see far more bandaging and evidence of what had been done to her. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his sonic and, adjusting the settings, ran it over the length of her body. Three broken ribs, a severely bruised pelvis, fractured skull... the list of injuries seemed a mile long.

"Oh, Peri," he breathed. "My queen... who did this to you?" he demanded, knowing that he wouldn't get a response. Tucking away the screwdriver, he found a chair and gently took her limp hand, holding it delicately. If anyone who knew him saw him at that moment, they would have denied that the person they were looking at was the scourge of Time Lord society.

Although he had asked for privacy, right after he spoke his words, the curtain separated causing him to abruptly raise his head to see a dark haired woman entering Peri's space. She looked curious and hesitated a moment before asking him, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but hear. You're not by any chance named Harry, are you?"

"Harold Saxon," he stated gruffly. "And who the hell are you?"

"Oh. Sorry. Police Constable Gwen Cooper. I found Dr. Langford two nights ago. I was checking to see how she was."

Hearing that the woman was a police officer and that she had found Peri, the Gallifreyan's face softened with gratitude. "From what I can see, you very likely saved her life, Police Constable Gwen Cooper," he replied. He gave her a slight smile. "Thank you."

"I was glad I was there. We've had too many who haven't made it." She continued to push. "So... would she know you as Harry, Harold?"

"You are a very persistent young woman, Gwen Cooper," the Master commented. "Yes. More often than not, she calls me Harry."

"Then I have a message for you. She said to tell you that she loves you even if you don't care, that you're her man of all time."

"She thinks I don't care? Silly little ape. Why would she think I don't care?" He hesitated as he realized how he had treated her the last time he had seen her. "Oh. Well..." He cleared his throat. "I appreciate your relaying her message."

"It's the least I could do for her. I hope there's a full recovery. It's obvious she's a strong woman and that's a plus for her."

"Oh, Periwinkle is indeed a strong woman," the Master agreed. "But relaying her message isn't the least you can do, Constable Cooper." Seeing the questioning look on her face, he continued. "You and your fellow officers can find who did this to her as quickly as possible."

Gwen looked away quickly, before pulling her eyes back to him. "I hope that's true, Mr. Saxon. The fact is Dr. Langford is just the latest victim of a gang that's been terrorizing women in Cardiff for the last nine months or so. We've been trying to discover who the perpetrators are but... all the leads we've had... well... they're dead ends. In fact, as far as we know, Dr. Langford is the only still living victim."

"Then I shall continue to hope that Peri comes around as soon as possible so that she can identify those who hurt her so," he informed her. Blinking for a moment, he seemed to decide on something before looking at Gwen. "If you don't mind, I'd like some time alone with Peri. We may have had a turbulent relationship in the past but... I'm here for her now."

"I can see that and I'm glad for her." Gwen pulled out her card. "If there's anything I can do for you, sir, just ring me up."

He accepted the card graciously, tucking it into his inner pocket without looking at it. "That I will, Gwen Cooper." He gave her a nod as she left the room, his face dropping the moment she was gone. His eyes immediately shifted to the woman in the bed who was struggling for life while a machine breathed for her. Standing slowly, he moved closer to the head of the bed.

"Peri, my queen," he murmured. "You may not be able to speak. You may not even be able to hear me. But you can still tell me who did this to you." Carefully, he put his hands to her temples and closed his eyes, delving into her mind.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Seeing Dr. Langford's condition, Reggie knew that the Master's rage would come to the forefront more than it had before. He could see in the man's eyes the urge to punish the perpetrators who inflicted such horror on the woman and to punish anyone he felt was in any way responsible for her condition. Having seen what happened to those who infuriated the Master, Reggie knew that Dr. Langford's assistant was in real danger of retaliation. The question was did she deserve such punishment.

Asking where he might find Dr. Langford's assistant from the nurse on duty, he was pleased to discover that she had left the number to her hotel room at reception. He immediately called the number and questioned her over the phone in detail, all the while watching Dr. Langford's hospital room door to see if the Master would come out to find him on the phone. It was clear from the conversation, however, that the assistant was just as horrified of what had happened to Peri as they were, that she had actually protested her decision to go out alone that evening.

"Do yourself a favor," Torkinson told her. "Go back to Australia immediately before the Master comes looking for you. I don't think he would be nearly as sympathetic as Lothos under the circumstances."

"You mean he'd…"

"If he sends people to the dungeons for not cooking his tea correctly, what do you think he'll do to you for being less than perfectly attentive to Dr. Langford. My guess is that he'll likely kill you."

The fear in the assistant's voice was nearly tangible. "I'll take the private plane back tonight. Can you buy me enough time?"

"I don't think Dr. Saxon will be leaving the hospital tonight," Reggie assured. "Just go."

Getting off the phone, he found a place to wait, certain that he had just saved an innocent life from a horrible death. He wouldn't know just how horrible it could have been for her until much later.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Dr. Owen Harper reviewed the latest report the police had filed concerning the gang the press were calling the Cardiff Sadists. The group of unknown size had terrorized the city for months. Initially there had only been one murder a month but, recently, that had increased and now finding a woman brutally killed had become a nearly weekly event. The most bizarre part of the killings had been the total lack of extraneous evidence. Sure, there had been the physical damage to the bodies indicating torture and rape by two or more individuals. But the type of evidence that would actually provide a lead to who was doing these vile acts was sorely lacking. Nonexistent to be exact.

The most recent report, though, indicated that the latest victim had actually survived and was currently a resident in the local ICU, literally only a few miles from Torchwood Three's Hub. Owen read with interest that she was a visitor to Wales from Australia promoting a new program by the Prometheus Institute. He tried to recall where he'd heard that name before and realized that Suzie had mentioned that she'd gone to the lecture two days before and was impressed by Dr. Periwinkle Langford's grasp of the issues relating to global communication.

He turned away from the 'general interest' part of the report, figuring that wasn't germane to what he was interested in. Rather it was this lack of evidence that was true in this case as well. "This doesn't make sense," he finally said softly. "No one is this good at cleaning up a crime scene. Well, maybe Jack." He'd been impressed by his new boss's ability to keep Torchwood mostly under the radar with all the work they did.

"What doesn't make sense?" Marcus Erikson asked the newest member of the Torchwood team.

"These girls," Owen replied, tapping his lip with a pen. Using the same pen as a pointer, he used it to indicate the report on his screen. "No evidence whatsoever on them, not even on this Dr. Langford."

"Dr. Langford? Who's she?" Marcus asked, curious.

"A skirt," came the ineffectual answer. Feeling the glare from Marcus, he continued. "Apparently, she's some big shot from Australia, got attacked couple nights back by that gang... and she's still alive. Miracle, that is. If you believe in miracles."

"Really! Survived, did she? And she wasn't able to tell them anything about these bastards?"

Owen shook his head. "Poor thing's in a coma. And still no DNA evidence. Almost like it never was there. Well, other than she was done over proper."

"Yeah," Marcus said, looking over Owen's shoulder at the screen.

"What are you two looking at?" Jack Harkness asked walking over to where there was obviously a pow-wow of sorts.

As an answer, Owen just pointed to the report. "What do you think? Don't know anything on Earth that could clean up a crime scene so perfect."

"Hmmm..." Jack thought for a moment. "Seem to recall a device we found around the mid-nineties. It was a Banzetian Sanitizer. Can be set to remove materials not tied to a patient's DNA... like bacteria, viruses..."

"Other being's DNA?" asked Marcus.

"Exactly," Jack answered. "London asked for the equipment and we sent it to them. Don't know whatever happened to it after that."

"And you only _now _thought about this? These murders have been going on for months," Owen pointed out.

Jack gave him a glare. "We've been a little busy. Besides, until you pointed out just how clean those bodies were, I always thought it was strictly a police matter. Now, with an alien device in obviously dangerous hands… Maybe I should make an inquiry with Torchwood One, check and see if they still have it."

"Probably a good idea," Owen told him bluntly. "Because I haven't a single clue how anyone could do what was done to these girls and not leave evidence."

Marcus shook his head. "I was in London at that time and working in the vault. If it's the equipment I think it is, it doesn't exist anymore. Ms. Hartman decided it wasn't viable technology and had it destroyed."

"Bollocks," Owen grumbled. "There goes that theory."

"We'll just have to keep up with the investigation. Maybe there's another Sanitizer out there. If there's a lead, we'll need to follow it and retrieve the alien equipment. And if we do retrieve another one, this time we're keeping it. To hell with London," Jack told them.

"Sounds like a plan," Marcus answered before looking at his watch. "Oh, buggers. I'm late for a meeting. You two will excuse me?"

"Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow." The leader of Torchwood Cardiff watched as the man left and then turned to his medical officer. "Owen, see what you can find out about this Langford woman. Find out if the doctors think she's going to recover."

"Will do," the doctor affirmed. He paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Don't you think it's a little odd all these meetings Marcus seems to go to?"

Jack leaned forward. "He volunteers at his church."

"He goes to church?"

Jack shrugged. "Checked it out myself when he first joined us. I personally don't get it but I figure different strokes for different folks." He smiled. "Speaking of which, I have an engagement tonight myself."

Owen groaned. "Am I the only one in this place who isn't getting shagged on a regular basis?"

"Hey, can I help it if I'm popular with the ladies... and the guys?" Jack quizzed.

"I refuse to dignify that with any sort of response that would further embellish your already over-inflated ego."

"You're no fun, Owen. You've got to loosen up."

"Yeah, well, I would if I were shagging."

"Whatever," Jack replied, heading back to his office to lock up. "In any case, look into Langford."

"Right." Owen stood just as Tosh came into the Hub. "Going out. Watch the Hub," he instructed her, not paying attention to her as she tried to talk to him.

"Um... right," she said watching him leave. She paused a moment looking after him but didn't say anything, instead going over to her station.

The trip to the hospital was relatively short. Fortunately for Owen, being a doctor allowed him easy access into the ICU without questions as to what he was doing there. After asking several well-placed queries and getting no answers, he accessed one of their computers, trying to find information about Periwinkle Langford. He had tried several lines of inquiry but each one lead to the inescapable result that she'd been moved to private facilities.

"Oh, fuck it," he finally said as he walked away from the desk. "Jack's not going to be happy, that's for bloody sure." Tapping on his earpiece, he informed Tosh to tell Jack of his findings while making his way back to the company car which sat across the street from the hospital. As he moved towards the vehicle, he noticed Marcus not far away and walked over to him instead. "Hey, what are you doing here? Your meeting end early?"

"What?" Marcus asked, obviously distracted. "Oh. Yeah. We postponed it since one of the blokes who was to give a report didn't show."

"So, what you doing here for?" Owen questioned. "Thought you would go home or back to the Hub."

"Um... No. I decided to catch a bite to eat at that pub over there. Heard it's up and coming. You want to join me?"

The doctor grimaced slightly. "Nah, been there before. It's shit."

"Really? That's not what I heard."

"Well, you haven't bloody well been there, have you?" Owen berated. "Besides, got to go back to the Hub and write up a report for Jack."

"Okay. Maybe next time. What's the report on?"

"That bird we were talking about earlier? Dr. Periwinkle Langford? Well, apparently her fiancé had her moved to private hospital."

For a split second, Marcus's face reflected something that was more akin to anger than anything else and, if a person was truly focusing on his response, they may have seen it. A moment later, though, there was no trace of anything except dull interest. "Oh. Not good for finding anything out then... unless you can learn her whereabouts." He looked back over to the pub. "Stinks, huh. Guess I'll just go to my tried and true then. See you later, Owen."

"Right. See you," Owen replied, frowning slightly at Marcus as he walked away. He didn't know why but the guy always gave him a crept out feeling in his gut. Then again, there were a lot of things that did that to him. Shrugging away the sensation, he climbed into the SUV and drove back to the Hub and to the paperwork that awaited him.

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Marcus walked through the streets of Cardiff and, a few blocks later, turned and walked into a rather dark pub. He headed directly to a back room. Entering, he called out, "You sots! She's alive. The bitch we took the other night is alive."

The five men who were waiting in the room turned and looked at him with surprise. "Wotcha mean, she's alive? She was dead! She weren't breathing, that's for sure," one questioned with a frown.

"I don't know how she survived, Nigel, but she did. From what I understand she's in a bloody coma but if she comes out of it and is able to identify us..." Marcus responded angrily, trailing off.

"Well, then we'd better make sure she doesn't come out of that coma, hadn't we?" another told him bluntly, returning the angry tone.

"Don't you think that's what I'd think of too? Sheesh, Colin! I'm not stupid, you know. I was going to do her in at the hospital but her fiancé has claimed her and taken her to a private hospital or something. Unless we can find out where, she could be singing to the coppers and then there'll be hell to pay!"

"So, what do you suggest we do? Go find her fiancé and ask nicely if we could please visit her so that we can shut her up forever?" a third demanded. "Because, right now, it looks like we're up shit creek without a paddle!"

"No, Thom. That's not what I'm suggesting, you dolt. The people I work for... they'll find her. My boss has figured out that the technology being used is interesting to him and that's all it takes. He'll want to find it and she's the only lead he has. I'll just keep my ear open and make sure I'm there first. But, in the meantime, we've got to lay low. Not going to be able to have much fun for awhile."

"This is bollocks!" complained the youngest of the group. "You mean we have to just keep our junk in our trousers?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Anything else and we'll put the entire operation at risk and then where will we be, huh? We just need to lay low until she's out of the picture. A week at most, I figure." He smiled at the youngest. "Then, Mikey, you can make up for lost time."

The final man, who was sitting in the shadows, nodded. "Yeah. Good plan."

Mikey complained, "You would agree to that, Shamus. You'll do anything including a fence post. I want a woman." His eyes glazed as he imagined it. "Someone who will scream when I give it to her good. Fence posts are just... well... that's for sickos."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, squirt," the older man in the corner answered back.

Nigel glared at the two of them. "Shut up. We all want a woman. But Marcus is right. If we do anything to draw attention to us right now, we might as well be painting targets on our heads. We need to lie low, just until we can finish this philly good and proper."

"Then we're agreed?" Marcus asked. Seeing the five nod, he smiled. "Alright then, if we can't do what we most want, let's do the next best thing. Get ourselves sotted."

"So, bitters all around then?" Colin suggested, standing to go retrieve the alcoholic beverages.

"Yeah. Sounds good." Within a few minutes, they started down the path to achieving their goal.

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The Master, after ensuring that Peri was transferred to a private hospital, left her in the capable hands of the staff and went to the hotel where a suite and pre-ordered room service was waiting for him. Foregoing the dinner, he had a notepad and pencil brought up to the room and started drawing. Torkinson, for his part, kept himself available for the Gallifreyan's bidding, though he did get some sleep in when the Time Lord dismissed him for the evening.

The next morning, however, there was a loud rap on the admin's door, waking him abruptly from his rest. He hurried to the door, throwing on a robe as he did so, and opened it quickly to find six sheets of paper thrust at him.

"Find them," the Master ordered firmly, his brown eyes darkened to almost black.

Torkinson took the papers and began to look at the detailed drawings. "Where did you get these?" Seeing the anger the question induced, he quickly changed it. "I mean, if Dr. Langford is still comatose, how do you know these are the men who..." He trailed off, knowing from the reports the damage that had been done to the woman had also left her in a coma. He assumed that these pictures were supposed to be of the people who'd done the horrid deed.

"It is irrelevant where I got them, Reginald. Just find them," the Time Lord ordered. He turned quickly and headed back towards his suite. "Preferably today, Reginald!" he added, impatience clear in his voice.

The admin's lips pursed, knowing this was not the time to question the Master. If the man was this certain these were the perpetrators, then that was good enough for him. "Yes, sir. I will get right on it." He started to walk away but turned back. "I took the liberty of sending your suits out for pressing so that any of the creases from travel are eradicated. They should be available to you when you awaken."

"Good. Oh, and I'm going to need painter's coveralls," the Gallifreyan informed him. "Preferably non-absorbent."

"Excuse me? Did I understand you to request non-absorbent... coveralls? Like a common workman would wear?"

The Master turned to look at him. "That is what I said, isn't it? And covers for shoes and nitrile gloves as well."

"Yes, sir. They will be delivered today." Reginald watched as his boss then continued into his suite without another word. As soon as he was alone, he said to himself, "Blimey. Don't know what he needs those for, but I have the feeling I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of these men."

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_October 2006_

Torkinson knocked smartly on the door to the Master's chamber. Five days had gone by since he'd been given the order to find the men the Master had drawn on plain white paper. It had taken much longer than the Time Lord had given him to find them but finally, after much searching, he had results to present to his boss.

"Enter," came the voice from the other side of the door.

"Sir, that... assignment you gave me earlier this week..."

"Which should have been finished the same day I gave it to you," the Master growled, lowering his newspaper as he did so.

"Um... yes. I am sorry about that but it has taken a bit longer to find them due to my... limitations..." He couldn't help but notice that the headline on the newspaper indicated that two more women had been murdered the previous night.

"You _are_ a limitation, Torkinson. The only reason I haven't killed you is that I actually still need an assistant and Peri is still in a coma."

Torkinson's face blanched but he continued on. "Yes, Master. I understand. I do have some good news today, however. I've found two of the six men you wanted me to find."

The Time Lord's eyelids dropped. "Just two?"

"Yes, but I have some solid leads to find the other four. It's just a matter of time..."

"I've given you four days, Reginald. I don't have unlimited patience and I grow weary of waiting." He sighed. "Level Five planets... how do you simian animals cope with those tiny little brains of yours?"

Reggie swallowed tightly before going on. "Sir, I promise you, before Dr. Langford is ready to leave Wales, I'll have found all of these men." He knew his boss had been to visit her as he had every day since they arrived. "How is she, sir? I've been so preoccupied in the search, I haven't heard."

The Gallifreyan seemed to consider whether or not to respond to the question before deciding that it wouldn't hurt to inform his current assistant of the situation. "As best as can be expected at the moment. Still hooked up to life support and in a coma. There really isn't any telling when she will awaken. The human brain is really such a mysterious and fragile thing."

"I see." The human coughed, slightly. "I would imagine based on the information I'm giving you that you'll be going out tonight?" He understood, based on the Master's rants through the week, once he found even one of the men there would be no question as to why the Master had requested six of the coveralls.

The alien extended his hand. "Let me see what you have."

Reggie handed him the surveillance pictures along with the report. "They appear to be men in their mid-twenties, sir. Swaggering piss-ants, in my opinion. I tailed them and these are their likely haunts."

The Time Lord grimaced slightly at what he saw. "Really, could they get any more low-brow? I wouldn't send a rabies infested rat into these places for fear of it getting infected with something far worse."

"Yes. My sentiments exactly." He paused a moment and then stated, "If that will be all, sir, I'll leave you to your planning while I continue my search for the rest of the vermin."

The Master examined the information he'd been given. While he had wanted it immediately before, he was now realizing the benefits of this slower path. For one, Reggie was extremely thorough as usual, having hunted down every little bit of information he could concerning these men. He'd even found out what they each liked for breakfast! And with that kind of thorough information, the Master now had the ability to do anything he wanted to them and he could take his time in planning the revenge they so deserved. Yes, this little mishap on the part of the admin was definitely turning out to be a most welcome piece of good fortune.

A broad grin grew on his face as he marched over to Reginald and gave him a massive hug, causing the younger man's eyes to widen with trepidation. "Reginald Torkinson, you are brilliant! I'm going to make sure Lothos gives you a healthy raise when we get back to Australia!"

"Y... y... yes, sir. Th... th... thank you, sir. M... m... may I go now, sir?" Reggie stammered, unsure whether or not to faint or cheer. He felt either extreme would not be in his best long term interest.

"Off you go, then," the Master allowed. "Find them all, Reggie. I look forward to the reports... so deliciously detailed."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Jack Harkness walked into the Hub, his eyes held captive by the report he was reading. "Owen? What's this about a change in the murders? These last two didn't have evidence of the alien technology being used. How do you know the same people did them?"

Owen raised his eyes from a small alien organism he was examining in the infirmary. "I wasn't going to pay any attention to another couple of murders that the police could take care of except that both of them were of young females, both brutally raped, beaten, and tortured before they were killed. The MO matches exactly to all the other murders where the alien technology was used."

"Okay. That makes sense. What doesn't make sense is them leaving all that evidence. If it was a Sanitizer they were using, did something go wrong with it? Did the battery run out or something? We didn't really have a chance to study it properly before we sent it to London," he added more to himself than to the physician, whose hands were once again busy in his examinations.

Marcus walked in as they were talking. He went over to the coffee pot and fixed himself a cup, listening to the conversation.

"Yeah, but we aren't going to figure that out for certain if we don't have whatever it is they were using," Owen pointed out.

"If they left DNA this time, it could give us a lead on who and where they are. Might find the technology during a search of their abodes."

"Maybe," Owen agreed.

"What are you two talking about?" Marcus asked looking at Jack. "Leaving DNA? What are we now, some kind of police detectives? I thought we left that to the rank and file."

"Hello, Marcus," Jack answered, not having seen him before since his back had been to him. "No... nothing as mundane as police work. But this might be our clue to finding the technology that gang's been using. Looks like they screwed up and didn't use it and now we might be able to track them."

The man's face blanched slightly. "What?"

"You okay?" Jack asked with concern, seeing his expression.

"Yeah... this coffee's just not strong enough to counteract a night's fun... that's all."

"Told you to stay away from that shithole," Owen commented without raising his head.

"I did. Visited another shithole, though," Marcus bantered back.

"That's fine as long as it doesn't interfere with your work," Jack cautioned. "You start slacking and I have some other drugs that'll fix you up just fine. Won't remember a thing but..."

"Yeah, yeah, Jack. I know. Won't affect what I do. But back to the topic... when did these newest murders occur?"

"Last night," Owen replied. "Four days after the last one. Still haven't been able to find out where they took her. Security around her is tighter than a virgin."

"Yeah," Marcus answered with a murmur. "Hey, Jack. I'm not on for a couple more hours. Just thought of something I need to take care of. See you at three," he stated, heading towards the exit.

"Right," Jack said, his mind now on the possibilities. "I'm going to have Tosh break into the police computers and see what our tax dollars are providing in the way of investigation." He turned to Owen. "Good work."

"Right," Owen answered. "Does this mean I get a raise?"

Jack blinked a moment. "Not yet. But keep these bits coming in and I'll see what I can do."

"So... no raise." He sighed. "Bollocks," he grumbled.

Jack smiled and went back into his office to contact his computer genius to see if she was up to snooping around cyberspace.

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A very angry Marcus Erikson walked into the backroom of the pub where Shamus and Colin were having a pint. "Where the hell is the others?" he ground out. "I want everyone here front and center and I want them here now!"

Colin looked over to him. "What's got you knickers twisted? They'll be here. It's almost two o'clock."

"Someone didn't follow the plan and now we've got the police and my boss on our trail."

Shamus didn't react to Marcus' fury, slouching in his chair. "Mikey said something about the plan being complete slop and that he was going to do things his way. I tried to tell him it didn't matter. A plan's a plan. 'Course the kid didn't listen to me. Told me to sod off. Kids these days... no respect for their elders."

Marcus slammed his fist down. "Mikey! I should have known. He's a loose cannon, that one. Well, from what I heard he didn't do it alone. Would have taken at least two of them... From what you're saying, Shamus, not you." He turned to Colin. "You didn't decide the wait was too long, did you?"

Colin gave him a glare. "I'm Scottish like Shamus, not stupid. Not my idea of a good time, spending life in prison."

Even as he spoke the door opened allowing Nigel and Thom to come in.

"What's this about life in prison?" Nigel questioned.

Shamus grunted. "Mikey decided to be a hotshot idiot, killed a couple of skirts last night." Seeing the look on Marcus' face, he explained, "Read it in the paper."

"What?" Nigel exclaimed. "Stupid kid! Didn't we agree to lay low?"

Thom looked away at the news. "Yeah, stupid kid..." he started.

Marcus went up to them both and grabbed their lapels. "Which one of you was it that helped him?"

"Hey, I was here in the pub last night! Just ask Paula!" Nigel defended, referring to one of the barmaids that worked there.

"Okay, so you've got an alibi. What about you, Thom?" Marcus asked, squinting his eyes.

Thom raised his head, looking startled. "What about Shamus and Colin? Not asking them for alibis, are you?"

Colin grunted. "Ever known Shamus to move from that seat except to piss, sleep, and go on hunts with us?"

"Yeah... well... what about you?" Thom continued to protest. "You weren't here last night, I bet."

"No, I wasn't. I was over in Manchester. Me Mum's 70th birthday. Couldn't miss that, now could I?" He looked over to Marcus. "I have twenty people saw me there with her."

The entire group turned to look at Thom, who was obviously getting nervous.

"Where were you last night, Thom?" Shamus questioned, already knowing the truth.

"He was working with Mikey... no other possibility," Marcus answered. "Were they good, Thom? Too good to pass up? Just had to have them, did you?"

"No! It wasn't me. I swear, Marcus." Thom looked around like a trapped rat. "Maybe Mikey recruited someone. Yeah. I bet that's what happened. Got someone else to do it to the skirts with him. Just like Mikey to do it too, stupid sot."

"Did you notice he didn't actually answer Shamus' question?" Colin pointed out. "If you weren't with Mikey, then where were you?"

"I was... um... I was..." His eyes shifted again. "I was at... the... the... futbol game... Cardiff was playing the Bristol Rovers."

"So who won?" asked Shamus.

"Um... well... I left early, see. Needed to meet a mate."

"Yeah. You met Mikey," Marcus said with a calm that belied his true feelings. "You got to pay for this, Thom. You've put us all at risk. You and Mikey have to pay."

Thom swallowed tightly. "What... what do you mean?"

"Well... won't be as much fun as taking out a skirt... but taking you and Mikey out will keep us in practice... and just maybe take the scent off of us."

"Works for me," Shamus commented nonchalantly.

"_What?!_" Thom exclaimed, backing away from the people he had called friends only minutes before.

"Grab him, Nigel!" Colin shouted, pulling his brass knuckles out. "Wonder if we can make him squeal."

"Oh... he'll squeal all right. Out in the alley with him. Don't want to get the room messy. Paula gets upset when she has extra work," Nigel responded, grabbing the man's arm and twisting it behind him.

Thom screamed in pain. "You're insane!" he cried out, struggling to break free.

"Rich coming from someone who enjoys hunting women without the 'cleaner,'" Marcus commented referring to the alien device he'd stolen from Torchwood London before he left. He led the way towards the back door.

"Let me go! I swear! I won't do it again!" the younger man pleaded.

"No... you won't," answered Colin, following them out. "Here, Marcus. You can use my rag to stuff him. Won't hear him squeal as well, but won't bring anyone to check either."

Taking the rag, Marcus shoved it into the mouth of the man who was now nearly paralyzed with fear. "Let the games begin," he finished with a taunting smile.

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The sun was starting to set as Harold Saxon leaned against a wall, watching the young man across the street with intense eyes. He recognized the man instantly, having seen his face in his dreams ever since he pulled Peri's memories. Erecting himself from his slouch, he made his way across the street, making sure that there were no CCTV cameras to pick up his face.

"Michael Kensington?" he questioned, though he already knew his prey's name.

"Wot? Who the hell's asking?" Mikey asked, giving the man in a red jumper and blue jeans some attitude. "You don't know me, old man."

"Old?!" the Master questioned with indignation. "I'm only twelve hundred! Well, by Earth standards. Besides, I don't look a day over forty for human aesthetics. Well, maybe a day."

"Senile too, it seems!" the younger man groused, starting to walk off. "Go bugger off, you pathetic bum."

Seeing the man walking away, the Gallifreyan raised his voice angrily. "Stop right there! Look at me, you insolent piss-ant!"

Mikey turned around suddenly to give the man "what for" when he was speared by the piercing glare. It held him in thrall, although a small part of his mind begged him to turn and run. Instead, he found himself like a fly in a pin. "Whaaaa..." he tried to speak, finding his control of his vocal cords cut off as were his other motor functions.

"You will be quiet and obey your Master," the Time Lord ordered. Seeing the man slowly nod consent - as if it were his to give - the Master smiled. "Come with me, Michael. I have something for you... but you won't want it. I will."

He led the young man through the alleys as far as possible, away from any CCTV cameras and using his sonic screwdriver to mess up the signal of those he couldn't avoid. Finally reaching his destination, a back alley a short distance from a pub, he spied the vehicle he knew would be there. "Good man, Reggie!" he exclaimed. "Is everything set?"

"Yes, sir," Torkinson replied respectfully. "Everything is inside the warehouse, just as you ordered it." As he spoke, he nodded to the abandoned building that they were standing in front of. "I'm sure you'll see that this... cretin will receive his proper punishment."

The Time Lord gave his current assistant a knowing smile. "Oh, he will. You are dismissed for now. I will call when I'm ready for pick up."

"Very good, sir. I will be awaiting your call."

The Gallifreyan huffed slightly in amusement. "I won't need you for quite a while so go ahead and take the night off. Fine meal, maybe take in a film or two... Just make sure your phone is on your side table before you go to sleep."

"Thank you, sir. I'll make the most of my time off. There is a film I want to see." He went to get into the SUV he'd driven to the warehouse. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow then?"

The Master just gave him a nod and a wave before taking Mikey's arm and leading him into the warehouse. Once inside, he took a look around at the set up Reginald had prepared for him. "Perfect!" he complimented with a broad grin. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the door, assuring it was fully locked. Then, turning to his victim, he took a breath. "Release," he ordered, allowing the man his freedom once again. He reached down to pick up a long metal pipe. "Enjoy your trip, Michael?" he questioned.

Mikey blinked for a moment, shaking the last vestiges of the control away before realizing he was inside the warehouse where they'd left the bitch who'd survived... the Langford woman, according to Marcus. "What'cha bring me here for?" he asked with false bravado. There was a growing fear rising up his spine that was causing his legs to turn to jelly.

"A woman named Periwinkle Langford. You and your gang attacked her eight nights ago. You raped her, beat her, tortured her and left her for dead. I figured I'd repay the deed... well, except for the rape and leaving for dead part. I'm going to make absolutely sure that you are dead before I leave."

"You're freaking mad!" Mikey screamed out. He turned and ran to the door, trying to pull it open and finding it was locked tighter than a kettle drum. He saw bloodstains on the wall beside the door as well as a bloody handprint on the handle. "Bollocks!"

"Oh, you have no idea just how mad I am!" Marching quickly to the young man, he brought the metal pipe down across the back of the man's legs, breaking them with a strength no human was capable of.

Mikey screamed again, feeling his legs cracking. "What the hell are you!" he called as he fell to the floor. The pain was excruciating and he tried to cover his now useless legs by running his hand protectively over them. He knew that whatever was going to happen, he had no way to move away from his present location. All he could do was lay there and watch as this... this... monster calmly prepared himself.

The Master reached down and grabbed Mikey's shirt collar before dragging him away from the door, the young man struggling and crying in pain as his legs contacted roughly with the floor. When they reached the exact spot where Peri had been brutalized, the Master's anger was fueled by seeing the bloodstains that still marked the spot on the concrete, the drums giving that anger the focus it needed. The Gallifreyan pushed the apelike animal roughly down, making its head bounce slightly before releasing his grip and standing up. He then went to a waiting gym bag which sat on an old desk. Opening the bag, he pulled out painter's overalls and started to put them on.

Mikey whimpered. The pain he was feeling was almost too much to stand and he knew this didn't bode well for him. He figured he only had one chance, as small as it was. He had to get the man to let him go. "Wha... wha... what are you... doing?" he started, hoping to initiate the conversation.

The Master huffed, glaring at him as if rebuking a child. "You really don't expect me to get blood on my new jeans, do you?"

"Blood?" Mikey asked, the sinking fear within him growing ever stronger. "Why do you care about that woman anyways? It wasn't just me, you know. I didn't even touch her. It was the others. They're the ones you want... not me."

At the man's words, the Gallifreyan moved with catlike quickness to look closely into the eyes of his prey. "I know exactly everything that happened in this warehouse one week ago. I saw everything my queen saw. Do you want to know what she saw?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed his head and, glaring into Mikey's eyes, projected Peri's memories of that night, memories through her eyes alone.

"Arrrrr!" Mikey cried out as his mind was assaulted by the vision. He could see the anger, lust, and depravity on his own and the rest of the gang's faces and understood the fear they'd made her feel. For a split second, the rush of that caused the sides of his lips to curl upwards but, in the next moment, her fear became his own as he realized without any question just what was in store for him, revealed by the changing pictures in his mind. "No... No... _No_!" His eyes moved frantically around the room, trying to figure out a way to stop this nightmare from happening but there was literally nothing he could do.

The Master let go of his head abruptly and returned to preparing for his revenge, carefully covering his shoes. "I have always been a fan of Earth's ancient legal codes, like the Code of the Assura or the Code of Hammurabi. Aren't you?"

"What?" Mikey asked, confused by this turn of the verbal banter yet still terrified of what he knew was going to happen to him.

"The ancient legal codes," the Master repeated as he slipped on a painter's cap. "You know. An eye for an eye stuff?" Still seeing the confusion on the younger man's face, he frowned. "Don't they teach anything in school these days? There's something I'm going to have to change when I become absolute ruler," he commented with annoyance before slipping on a pair of gloves. "My favorite code, at this moment is from the Assura. 'If the wife of a man be walking on the highway, and a man seize her, say to her "I will surely have intercourse with you," if she be not willing and defend herself, and he seize her by force and rape her, whether they catch him upon the wife of a man, or whether at the word of the woman whom he has raped, the elders shall prosecute him, they shall put him to death.' Well, given what you did to my queen and the fact that I am definitely your elder and I have found you guilty, that just means that I get to kill you, doesn't it?" Then picking up the remote that he'd also found in the gym bag, he aimed it at the camcorder set on a tripod to activate it. "Showtime."

"Please..." Mikey begged, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please... have mercy!"

"Oh, mercy is only for the just. You don't qualify." Reaching down to pick up a pair of large cable cutters, the alien twirled the instrument in one hand as he gave Mikey a chilling smile. "Now... where were we?"


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Suzie Costello was on the trail of a weevil. She had to admit, the chases they led her on tended to be wide and well into the underside of the city. Tonight was no different. She went into the alleyway cautiously, ever alert for a possible attack. These creatures could enter and exit the woodwork almost invisibly. As she crept into the area, she kept her eyes peeled to any movements around her. That was why she didn't find the body until she literally tripped over it.

"What the hell!" she exclaimed as she tumbled down. As she did, the weevil bolted out of the alleyway and into the waiting trap that Owen had laid for it, namely his shooting the creature with a tranquilizer. She picked herself up and called out, "Good work. Get that one down to the Hub for detention." Knowing he would do it, she ceased to think about the weevil - despite Owen's complaints about the stench weevils always seemed to give off - and instead turned to the body she'd just found. "Well, well. Looks like someone wanted you dead. Wonder if you were going to be the weevil's dinner." Pulling out a scanner, her eyes widened. "Nothing? Hold on... a Banzetian Sanitizer? Jack's going to want to know about this." She touched her earpiece to inform her boss of her discovery.

About twenty minutes later, Captain Harkness walked into the alley. "What do you have, Suzie?"

"And it had better be good," Owen bemoaned, following Jack into the alleyway. "Do you know how hard it is to lug a deadweight weevil into the car on your own?"

Suzie pointed to the body on the ground. "Take a look. At first I thought a weevil got to him but I just scanned him, he is completely devoid of any parasites and DNA, alien or otherwise."

Owen tilted his head. "Like the skirts."

Jack took a look at the body. "Interesting. They've been going after women for months. What would have them change to men?"

"What makes you think they've changed to men?" Suzie questioned, getting surprised looks. "Think about it. The women had obviously been raped before being beaten to death. This man is fully clothed, though I definitely wouldn't want to endure what he did."

"Yeah... but like you said, it's likely that a Banzetian Sanitizer was used on this man. Always been women before," Jack reasoned.

Marcus walked into the alleyway, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of three of his coworkers. "Um... what are you guys doing here?"

"Well, we were doing our job chasing weevils," Owen told him derogatorily. "But we've come across a bit of a mystery, namely why a bloke is cleaner than a vacuum chamber."

"Um... yeah. I'd heard there was a dead body in the alley. Someone at the bar said so and I came to investigate myself."

Jack tucked his hands in his pockets, regarding Marcus for a long moment. "Are you absolutely sure London destroyed that Banzetian Sanitizer you mentioned?"

"Definitely. Miss Hartman was adamant that it needed to be disposed of permanently. She said there wasn't much use keeping it around."

"Huh," Jack murmured. "You think you know someone..." Taking a deep breath, he turned to his team. "Well, we finally have a chance to isolate a means of finding that cleaner so let's get to work. Suzie, Owen... collect the body and get it back to the Hub. Owen, I want a full rundown on this guy. Name, address, the works. And see if you can't find some sort of isotopic residue of some kind that we can scan for. Marcus, help Owen out on this. The sooner we find answers, the better."

"What are you going to do, Jack?" asked Owen, not exactly thrilled with the idea of having to once again get an unwieldy body back to the Hub even if he had help this time.

"Good old fashion detective work. If we can find out who killed this guy, we'll find the person using the Sanitizer. I figure some interviewing in that pub Marcus mentioned would be a good start." He turned to Marcus. "Which pub did you say?"

Marcus nodded to the way he came. "The Bull and Ram. It's just down the ways a bit." He figured that his talk to the others would assure that Jack wouldn't get much for his detective work. After what they did to Thom, no one was going to turn pigeon.

"Great... you get to have a pint and we..." Owen started but then stopped, putting up his hands in resignation. "Fine. You're the boss. Rank has its privileges."

"Yeah. It does," Jack agreed. "As I said, get started with that body. I want answers." He went to the pub knowing that the work would be done. An hour and several glasses of water later – he wasn't a teetotaler but being drunk did nothing for his hearing and observation skills - he hadn't learned any more in the pub than he'd known before. Despite having spoken to several rather inebriated patrons, no one seemed to know anything about what had happened in the alley. At least they weren't going to talk if they did know anything.

Jack was at a loss as to how to proceed, which didn't happen very often. He'd sent the Banzetian Sanitizer to London with the assurance that they would be examining the device but he'd never heard anything about it again until Marcus told him what they had done with it. It just didn't make sense. If nothing else, the Sanitizer would make Torchwood's activities easier to hide from various factions, including UNIT. Sighing, he considered that if he knew one thing for certain it was that most Torchwood operatives would hide their actions from just about anyone, believing that their mission made any means justification to the end. And Yvonne Hartmann definitely believed in that philosophy so it didn't make sense that she would order the Sanitizer's destruction. He was trying not to run Cardiff with that philosophy but... it was hard sometimes. Frustrated, he decided to walk for awhile and allow the night air to clean the cobwebs from his mind. There had to be a way to find this new Sanitizer and sometimes, he'd found, not focusing on the question at hand was the best way to figure things out.

Three hours later, and with quite a few city blocks under his belt, he felt that checking the place where Dr. Langford was attacked might just give up a few clues that had been missed by the local police. If not... well, it couldn't hurt. It would take awhile to get there but what else did he have on his schedule?

He brought up his Blackberry to refresh his memory about the location where the scientist had been found. When he was close to his destination he was surprised to hear the sound of movement as he approached the scene. Certainly any police work would have finished long before this as the attack had taken place a whole week ago and it was far too early in the morning for anyone to be up and about for a casual walk. As he moved closer to the warehouse, his eyes widened at the sight of a constable running out of the building, absolute terror on his face.

"Oh, gawd... oh, gawd... oh, gawd..." the constable cried out, almost as a mantra. Obviously not seeing where he was going, he ran straight into Jack.

"Whoa!" Jack entreated, holding the man steady. "Easy there. What's wrong..." He looked at the nametag on the man's uniform, "... Constable Harrison?"

"In...nn...nn...there!" Harrison whined. "It's awful... horrid... the depravity!" the constable babbled somewhat incoherently.

Jack turned his head in the direction the constable had indicated. The sun had come up enough that the alley was fairly well-lit, enough that he could see red stains bordering the warehouse door. Patting the constable's shoulder, he spoke gently to console him, pulling out an ID as he did so. "Special Ops, UNIT," he told Harrison. "What's in there?"

Looking at the ID, the shock in the constable's eyes abated slightly as he answered the man's question. "There's blood everywhere... everywhere, I tell you."

Jack's forehead creased. Figuring there had been another murder, he came up with a plausible reason to go into the building that the shaken constable would buy. "I'm going to go take a look while you call this in. You weren't in there long. If what you say is true, there could be someone else in there."

"I didn't think of that." He looked at the door. "I... I... just can't go back in there right now. I know it sounds like I'm... well... not very..."

"Don't worry about that right now. I'll just take a look. I'm trained for things like this," he again embellished, using the UNIT card again.

Harrison was obviously willing to let the supposed man from UNIT look for the perpetrator of the horrific crime. "Yes. Yes... you do that. I'll call into the station. They can send detectives and they'll know what to do."

"Just don't mention me," Jack informed him. "I'm technically undercover. Don't want to get in trouble with my superiors."

"Well... that's not proper proto..." the constable started before closing his eyes as if making a decision. "This is out of my league. Like you said, UNIT deals with things like this all the time. You won't disturb the evidence, though? Right? The detectives raise holy hell if someone does that."

"Of course not. Just want check if you need to call for an ambulance as well."

"Right..." Harrison nodded down the alleyway. "I'm going to make that call now."

Jack looked closely at Harrison to determine if the man was physically sound and not subject to going into shock. Satisfied the man would be all right, he walked to the warehouse door and carefully opened it, making sure that he had a handkerchief in hand to avoid leaving fingerprints. "Oh, my gawd," he exclaimed, swallowing tightly to prevent himself from becoming physically sick. Now he understood why the constable was acting like a nervous Nelly. Any sane man would act oddly when faced with what was currently before his eyes.

The constable had obviously just arrived at the crime scene when he literally ran into him. Jack huffed at the term which clearly was too gentle for what he was seeing. This wasn't just a crime... it was an abomination. He had seen his share of brutality in his long life but never - in 140 years - did he ever encounter such raw viciousness. Blood _was_ everywhere. Body parts of various sizes covered the floor, making it hard for Jack to keep from running from the scene in search of the nearest waste bin. Only a person violently attacking another with a ferocity beyond hatred could have caused this much damage to a human being. Looking at the carnage, he realized there was very little left of the body.

"This... this is... insane! Too neat, too precise for an animal..." _Or a weevil_, Jack added mentally. "A man did this," he whispered, shock in his voice at his realization.

He gave the warehouse an investigative scan with his eyes, confirming he was alone. As he looked around, he noticed three small circles that showed through to the floor in the sea of dried blood. Something had been there to prevent the blood from touching the floor. With another wave of nausea, he realized what the circles were. "A tripod. Sick bastard filmed it." He shook his head. "What kind of maniac would go this far? He had to be one hell of a magician not to get caught. This had to have taken hours to do and this warehouse isn't that far off the beaten path."

Knowing that this was his only chance to get more information about the Sanitizer - and maybe as to who or what had done this horror - he quickly brought up his wristband, wanting to take some quick readings. It was then he found what was lying on the top of an old desk which was strangely devoid of blood. Using his handkerchief, he moved aside a metal bar that had been used to prevent a paper from blowing away. He picked up the paper, feeling a chill up his spine as he focused on the drawing: a black and white charcoal sketching of a young man. But it wasn't the picture that made him take a quick breath in. It was what he saw on the bottom right-hand corner of the paper that caused his brow to furrow in confusion.

"Gallifreyan?" he questioned. There were only a small number of beings throughout the universe who would know how to write Gallifreyan and hardly any would be on Earth... and any terrestrial people who would recognize the language wouldn't know any more than the shapes alone. Understanding that he needed time to really look at the paper more carefully - and knowing that the police wouldn't understand the significance of the symbols - he quickly rolled up the paper and stuck it into his pocket. Then, with a shaky breath, he exited the building. Seeing the constable standing a distance away, protecting the area to prevent any passersby from entering the scene, he approached him slowly. "UNIT definitely isn't needed here. And the area is clear so your detectives will be safe going in there. Disturbed but safe."

"Yeah. You can say that again. I can't get that picture out of my mind. What could possibly cause someone to _do_ that?"

Jack shook his head at the question, unable to give an answer. Instead, he patted the constable's shoulder in a show of support before walking away from the scene. After only a block, however, he found that he needed to stop, overwhelmed with what he had just witnessed. A nearby bin proved to be quite useful as he emptied his stomach, physically shaking from the shock to his system. Coughing as he pulled away from the bin, he wiped at his mouth with his handkerchief. Throwing it in the bin, he walked away.

A few blocks afterwards, and once more composed, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the mysterious clue. Already he was trying to understand the significance of this intricately drawn picture coupled with the brutal murder scene he'd just witnessed. More importantly, though, he was trying to understand the presence of the intricate circles and lines in the bottom right hand corner that were so distinctive of the Gallifreyan written language. The more he looked at them – the preciseness of each circle and line – the more the only reasonable solution to the mystery came to him like a punch in the gut.

He shook his head. "No. Couldn't be him. Just couldn't," he said aloud to himself. Still a nagging thought of 'who else?' kept playing over and over in a small part of his mind that he was doing his best to ignore. "There's got to be some other explanation," he told himself in denial of what he knew to be the facts at hand.

Straightening himself with a confidence he didn't feel, he started on his walk once again. If there was another answer... No, those weren't the right words. There _was_ another answer. There _had_ to be. And he knew that the only way to find it would be with the resources at his disposal in the Hub. He realized he still had a long night ahead of him as he rolled the paper back up and returned it to his pocket before walking back to the Torchwood base.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

After his first taste of the vengeance he had extracted in Peri's name, the Master had called Torkinson to pick him up. He'd stripped off the bloodstained coveralls, head cover and booties before making sure that they were burned in an old oil bin that was conveniently in the warehouse. Then, with his assistant's clearly reluctant help – Reggie had never seen so much blood in one place – he collected all of the equipment he'd used and put them in the waiting SUV before allowing Torkinson to take him back to the house that had been leased for their use. Once they'd arrived, the Master stated that he was going to take a shower while the assistant shakily finished cleaning up the equipment and assured that any trace of the killing was obliterated thoroughly. After all, murder was hard work.

He stripped out of his clothing and stepped into the hot stream of water, ribbons of red falling in transparent streams poured off his face and body. As he stood there allowing all evidence of his actions to be washed away, he considered those actions. At first, he'd followed his plan to slowly and meticulously extract pain from his prey. However, as the night had gone on, he found himself losing control, especially as Mr. Kensington continued to plead his innocence despite the evidence presented. Even after those words were no longer possible for the ape to articulate, he continued to smash and rip the body apart. What he'd left had no visual connection with the person who'd made up that biological mass.

"Need to exert more control over myself. I haven't had that kind of reaction since... since..." He paused and realized he'd never been that out of control before and suddenly realized the reason. "I love her. I bloody love her! I absolutely and completely bloody love her!" It was a shocking yet marvelous revelation, one he quite literally would have never in all his lifetimes believe would be possible. He wasn't sure at that moment whether to shout with joy or with irritation. He then shrugged, deciding that he could figure out the dynamics of this revelation later, and lathered up. He began to whistle happily, enjoying the sensation of being clean.

After thoroughly showering and dressing in an Italian suit, the Master regarded himself in the mirror to make sure that he appeared presentable. Smiling broadly at what he saw, he strode out of the bedroom and towards the back of the house where he knew Reginald would be completing his task.

"You may want to clean the shower as well, make sure that there aren't any traces of blood there. You know how forensics can be," he told Reggie bluntly. Getting a brief nod of confirmation from the assistant, he continued. "I'll return in a few hours. Have a meal ready for me." Without waiting for an answer, he started for the front of the house. He briefly considered having a car drive him to the nearby hospital where Peri was being treated but decided against it, though he was sure Lothos would have a conniption at his maverick tendencies of dismissing the bodyguard who came with him to Cardiff. However, as loyal as he knew Lothos' minions would be, for his current project, he didn't want to have that many people in the know. Torkinson, he had decided, could be trusted implicitly. After all, despite being thoroughly revolted by the mess the Master had made, the man was still doing his utmost to fulfill his end. The Time Lord was sure that, given time, the assistant wouldn't even flinch at the sight of death and destruction.

The walk was a fairly short one, only fifteen minutes one way. Upon arriving at the hospital, the Gallifreyan bypassed the reception desk and went directly to the room where Peri was being cared for. There was a nurse in the room when he walked in.

"Dr. Saxon. I was wondering when you'd arrive," she said looking up.

Saxon gave her a slight smile. "Hello, Lucy," he greeted the nurse, having gotten to know the names of all of the staff tending to Peri. "How is she today?" he questioned, going to the bed and touching the comatose woman's hand.

"She's fine, sir. Seems to do better when you're here, though."

"Really?" He pondered on the nurse's words for a moment. He never really had believed in the old tale that people in comas could hear the outside world or sense people close by. But it didn't surprise him that Peri would be the one to disprove his disbeliefs. If only he could see her brilliant eyes which matched her name. Sitting down slowly in the same chair he'd occupied every day since he had her transferred to this hospital, he looked up at Lucy. "Any sign of her coming out of this?" He already knew the answer before he spoke the question.

She looked sadly him. "Dr. Wilkins will need to answer that question, sir."

"Thought as much. Still... had to ask." He regarded Peri for a long moment, noting every bandage, every wire, every tube that went into her frail frame. He knew that it was going to take weeks for the woman to recover from the horrible attack but he couldn't help but wish that he could erase what had been done to her. "When is he due?"

"He was here earlier this morning but plans to be back around one o'clock." She had seen Saxon's devotion to the woman, spending hours at her side. "I imagine you'll be waiting for him?"

He blinked up at Lucy, a questioning look on his face. "It's seven o'clock in the morning," he pointed out.

"Yes, but you'd stayed that long before. I assumed you would do so again."

He blinked again, confusion taking hold in his eyes. "I have?"

It was Lucy's turn to be confused. Surely he realized how long his visits were. "Um. Yes. Several times in fact. A few times, Mr. Torkinson has had to retrieve you."

The Master considered her words for a long moment and, as he did so, a smile slowly came to his face as he realized that the nurse was absolutely correct in her assessment. He indeed had spent hours in this room, lost in his own thoughts as he watched over this woman who had captured his hearts. Funny how the recognition of his feelings brought about the knowledge of actions he hadn't realized he'd been performing. "Of course. It makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Why would I want to be anywhere else other than by Peri's side?" He hesitated. "Well... there are other places I'd want to be and other things I want to be doing when I'm not here but that's not the issue at hand, is it?"

The nurse listened to the seemingly nonsensical babble, but had found such things to be common when loved ones were injured. Their significant others occasionally would be rather... scattered. "No, sir. I guess not." She gathered up the equipment she'd been using to check the woman's vitals. "I'll leave you two alone."

The Time Lord looked at Lucy with gratitude. "Thank you." He was honestly surprised that he actually meant it as well. After she acknowledged his words she turned and left. When she was gone he spoke aloud to himself, "Blimey... if this keeps up, I'll be as bad as Thete!" He shook his head slightly, remembering how he had called the Doctor by that name regularly in their past.

He turned back to his beloved, the emotions he was feeling giving him pause. He could count on one hand the number of people that he could honestly say he'd felt love for and even those hadn't been like this. Familial and platonic love just wasn't the same as what his hearts now told him was true. He whispered to her, "Peri, you must get better. I have something I must tell you but I will only do so when I can look into your eyes and know you are hearing and understanding my voice." He paused. "And I so want to let you know that I'm making them pay dearly for what they've done to you, my dearest." He couldn't help but look for her response and found that her face did turn slightly to him as he spoke. "That's it. I'll be here beside you whenever I can until you're ready."

The nurse had brought him tea several times before Dr. Wilkins finally entered the room.

"Ah. Mr. Saxon. So glad to see you. I see you've been keeping our girl company again today," the gregarious doctor greeted.

The Master swallowed down the urge to strangle the doctor for the seventh time since he met the man. How could anyone be as upbeat as this human? Not even the Doctor was this upbeat all the time! And hearing Wilkins refer to Peri as "our girl" made him want to throttle the physician all the more. Peri wasn't _his_ girl! She belonged to him, the Master, body and soul. Or so he hoped. She certainly showed him great affection before he had sent her on this ill-fated trip, but that, he was certain, was due to his... rather extensive abilities to control these apes. Now... now he'd have to await her coming to consciousness to find if she truly cared for him. It scared him to think she might not, but with these feelings he had, he couldn't accept it if he were forcing her to love him. It had to be from her own single human heart.

He turned to the man, allowing his thoughts to drift away from what she would do once awake. "Dr. Saxon," he corrected the physician with a glare. "Always a pleasure to see you, Dr. Wilkins. Lucy tells me you're the only one that can give me Peri's most recent prognosis."

"Yes. Straight to business. That's what I like about you, Saxon. No dilly-dallying around; just get to the facts. That's probably why they chose you to be the CEO for the Prometheus Institute. Such a wonderful organization. I received a grant from them to fund my research into neurological connectivity and computer interface, you know..."

"Yes. I know," the Master said dryly, understanding if he didn't stop him, he'd get the entire history of the man's research ad nauseum. "Back to Dr. Langford, if you please," he pressed, keeping his voice as pleasant as he could despite his annoyance. "Are there any signs of her coming out of this coma?"

"Right... you did ask about that now, didn't you?" He pulled up the file he was carrying. "The most recent tests show she's actively listening to conversations around her. Lucy tells me you come and talk to her and that seems to be helping her to focus her mind. I'd suggest you just keep doing what you're doing and, between that and our treatments, Dr. Langford will be right as rain before you know it."

Once again, the Time Lord held back a grimace. _Right as rain? What kind of imbecile uses such clichés? _If he didn't know for certain that the neurologist was the absolute best in his field, producing outcomes that quite literally put his colleagues at a distance, he'd be tempted to figure out a way to send him to the chambers on the lowest level of the Prometheus Institute. He was sure, as excited as this man was about the organization, that he could tell Wilkins he was just sending him to the faraway corporate office and the physician would willingly step on a plane and offer himself up to Lothos. A small grin captured his face as he thought of the lovely tortures the doctor would endure if such a thing happened. But that was only fantasy thinking, as much as he'd like to make it reality. Peri needed him too much. "Yes. I will continue to speak to her. But do you know how long she's likely to stay in the coma? Could you be a little more specific about it instead of 'before you know it?'"

"Of course, of course. You would like to know that, wouldn't you? As would all of us here. All I can say is if she continues to make progress at the rate we're seeing... and there's no guarantees about that, you know... it's a possibility... again, not a guarantee... but potentially she may be joining the conscious oh... maybe within... um... well..."

The Time Lord couldn't hold back the groan of frustration this time, rubbing his hand over his face. "Why don't you just come out and say that you haven't the foggiest idea when she will recover as comas are unpredictable and the chances of coming out of one has more to do with the patient's will than it is to do with medical science. Or is that too difficult for you to do?"

The equipment that was monitoring Peri Langford suddenly showed an increased response as the Master made his impassioned speech.

"See there?" the physician said, mostly ignoring the Master's frustration along with his words. "Just like I said. You keep up what you're doing and she'll be fine before you know it."

"What of her physical injuries?" the Master pressed.

"Those I can actually give you a more specific timeline." The physician went into detail as to how she should heal, indicating that within four months, assuming she was back mentally, she'd likely be well on the road to full recovery.

The Master, for his part, listened intently finding the progress report an assurance that it would be a slow path to physical recovery. As much as he wished he could be the one to heal her wounds, he didn't have enough medical knowledge nor the equipment necessary to do so. He did know some medicine but he wasn't as versed in human biology as he needed to be under these circumstances. He considered that had he and his arch-rival still remained friends, the Doctor, who was well-versed in human anatomy, may have been able to heal Peri quicker. As it was, however, he knew that his fellow Time Lord and he would never see eye to eye on certain issues and that was enough for the Master to keep Peri as far from the Doctor as possible. Sighing, he instead turned back to the continuing drone of the much less medically versed human physician. He decided to interrupt the unending stream of words. "Would she be able to travel within the next two months? If she has recovered mentally, that is."

"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, now, won't we?"

_What is he? The King of Clichés? All hail! _The Master didn't voice his derisive thoughts, instead choosing to nod appropriately. "Yes," he answered. "Thank you for updating me. It's good to know that she's in good hands."

The physician finished his visit after checking her over once more and entering the data on the chart. As he was leaving, he commented, "I hope the roads are clearer on the way home. I would have been in earlier if I hadn't been stopped in traffic awaiting the clearing of a murder scene, from my understanding."

"What murder is that?" the Gallifreyan questioned, hiding a grin of satisfaction at knowing at least one murder that had happened the previous night.

"It was close to the Bee and Thistle pub. Down the alley from there I suppose. I don't believe I've seen such a police presence ever before. Multiple cars were clogging the roads. Took a good thirty minutes just to get through the area."

"I suppose we'll hear about it on the news tonight," the Master commented.

"Yes. I suppose you're right. I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure. Until then, goodbye."

The Master nodded his goodbye to Dr. Wilkins as he exited the room. One again sitting beside Peri's bed, he carefully took her hand and held it. "Peri, my dear, you'll be able to see much more than a simple news report, but you must awaken before then. So... heal quickly, my sweet." He gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Now, I must go for awhile but I'll be back later tonight. Until then..." He allowed his thoughts to trail off before getting up and heading out the door, feeling slightly hungry and knowing that Torkinson would have his meal awaiting him. As the doctor had said, they'd just have to wait until she was ready.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_December 24, 2006_

The Master marched into the house he'd called home for the last three months. Well, except for that month he'd been out on the road finishing the tour Peri had started as the public face of the Prometheus Institute. It seemed the world was going against him since he landed in the pit known as the city of Cardiff. Why couldn't things go smoothly and to plan?

Killing his first victim was too messy. He didn't even get a chance to take down the second since someone else obviously had taken that one out and threw the ape into the river afterwards. He huffed out a breath. It had taken a good three weeks until he learned that, weeks that could have been hunting the third.

Ahhhh. The third one. That murder was far too quick, even though he thought it brilliantly ironic to kill on Halloween. He couldn't take much time when he was on a public street now, could he, especially when a Trick-or-Treater could suddenly pop up out of nowhere. But then he'd had to leave for that month and things became intolerable. He'd come back two weeks ago only to find that Peri had taken a turn for the worst. When he went to her side and probed her mind, his heart ached as he realized that it was his leaving that had precipitated her setback. He'd been by her side daily since then, ignoring Lothos' appeals to get back to his performance as the man who was going to make life better for the world. He'd told "ol' HAL" to go suck some direct current. Lothos hadn't been amused but hadn't pushed him as much after that. He got the feeling that Lothos knew his affection for Peri would be his first priority and he figured that the cyborg might try to use that affection to control him, as if he was going to let that happen.

Then... today. Everything conspired against him. He'd finally agreed to a morning interview with the clambering press and had stopped by the hospital on the way to the studio where the interview was to take place. While he was there, he'd received the news that they were going to have to break one of Peri's ribs to reset it since it was healing incorrectly. He'd tried to help her by connecting with her mind but, instead, only managed to feel the excruciating pain she felt despite the painkillers they'd given her. It had shaken him to the core and he'd called off the interview at the last minute only to have the press accuse him of hiding things. When Lothos found out about the fiasco, his anger was enough to effectively burn out one of his own circuits. The livid disembodied being had told the Master to assure the Prometheus Institute maintained its good reputation despite the alien's puppy love for Peri.

In a desperate attempt to relieve the stress that had built up, the Master turned to finding and killing his next victim. However, when he did catch up with his prey, his enjoyment was ruined utterly before he could get five minutes into the fun. Something... something that shouldn't exist and yet it did... something that defied time itself... had stopped him. He'd just started to carve into Nigel Bartley like a Christmas turkey - another beautiful irony if he'd been able to carry through with the plan - when he'd felt it coming closer and closer to Mermaid Quay, the same place where Peri had been enjoying the night before she had been kidnapped. Naturally, he panicked. Any Time Lord would, given that it was - whatever it was - completely... wrong. He'd been forced to rush the kill, decapitating Nigel with a quick firm slice, a shame really since the previous victim was so beautifully and artistically done.

Now he was frustrated and angry. Nothing was right. Nothing! He slammed the door behind him, knocking off the large and festive wreath that had been hung there, ignoring that he was leaving bloody handprints on everything he touched.

Reggie entered the hallway from the makeshift office the Master kept to fulfill his obligations as CEO of the Prometheus Institute. The assistant was in a pleasant mood as he was completing the final seasonal touches to the home. Glancing at the blood on the man's clothing and the prints on the wall, he observed, "Number four, I see. I assume you enjoyed yourself?" He realized he'd misread the Master's mood too late.

The Gallifreyan glared at Torkinson, gritting his teeth in an effort not to make his assistant the next victim. "Enjoyed myself? Enjoyed myself?!" He bundled his hands into fists and showed just how little he did enjoy what could have been such a pretty murder by leaving a bloody imprint of said fist in Reginald's jaw.

Reggie fell back against the wall, stunned by the force that hit him. He slid down to the floor onto the holly that he'd dropped upon impact. Reaching up, he felt something wet and sticky dripping from his face. The demure-looking man wasn't sure if it was from the Master's latest kill or his own blood. Certainly the hit had been hard enough to break his skin. Indeed he was pretty sure, as he reached his hand up to his jaw, that a few teeth had been knocked loose. "I... I... I'm... sorry... sir. I didn't m... m... m... mean to... to... to..." He trailed off, pursing his lips with a small hum. He wasn't sure if he would just antagonize the man more. Having seen what the Master could do when antagonized, it seems the better part of valor to just shut the hell up.

"Oh, don't lose your cajones just when you finally have grown a pair of them!" the Master berated him.

"Sir?" Reggie asked, confused.

The Time Lord exhaled, shaking his head. "Never mind, Reginald. I just... need to let off some steam." Sighing, a small smile graced his face as he felt some of the tension in his neck flow out of him through the throb in his hand. "I do feel much better after that."

Reggie blinked. "Glad I could be of assistance, sir."

The Master leaned against the wall, the blood from his clothes transferring to the fabric holiday scene that had been hung there. "Oh, Reginald, why is this pathetic planet of yours so difficult to navigate? I just want things to run smoothly. Is that too much to ask for? A little artful murder every once in a while to avenge my queen? My Peri well and by my side to rule with me over you apes?"

"I don't know," Reginald replied, blinking at the Time Lord's rant. "And the way you put it, no. It's not too much to ask." He coughed. "But, um... sir? I believe it would be in your best interest to... um... get cleaned up now? It looks like I have a lot of work to do, what with the... um... prints and all."

"What prints?" the Gallifreyan questioned with a frown.

"Well... there's the one on the door knob and the one on the wall over there... and there... and there... Probably one on the outside handle as well," he said nodding to point them out. "Not to mention the holiday scene you've been leaning against."

The Master grunted, seeing all the seasonal decorations. "Why in the Mutter's Spiral would you decorate for Christmas? I thought you didn't believe in such primitive traditions." He then glanced around the room as the stains in question were revealed to him, his eyebrows rising slightly. "And I don't see why you're so concerned about the handprints. They're red. Isn't that one of those Christmas colors? I just helped you decorate."

Reggie just stared for a moment, not sure how to respond to the Master's statements. He finally took a breath and coughed, "Yes... well... as you said, this planet can be difficult to navigate sometimes. The local constabulary would not take kindly to discovering such... evidence of what they would surely see as a crime, no matter how justified it was."

The Time Lord's head bobbled, his face scrunching. "I suppose that's true enough." Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the wall. "Well... I guess you'd better clean it up then. I'll just be in the shower if you need me." He started towards the stairs but stopped when he noticed the stains he was leaving on the tiled floor. "Barefoot?" he questioned, deciding with a sad sigh that would be the most logical solution. "I want them cleaned. They're my favorite trainers and they're just too comfortable to throw out."

"Of course. Perhaps it would be wise if you removed the coveralls too, sir," Reggie suggested.

"Undress in the foyer? With St. Nick watching?"

"It would be a wise thing to do under the circumstances," the assistant answered dryly.

The Master tilted his head to concede the matter before carefully removing the coveralls and trainers. "Happy?" he questioned with a hint of sarcasm.

"Ecstatic, sir," Reginald replied with a hint of a smile.

"That's what I like about you. You're an easy man to please. It'll make Christmas shopping for you all that more pleasant."

Reggie held back his exasperation of having to deal with the consequences of his hot-tempered employer's actions. "Quite."

The Gallifreyan started up the stairs and towards the shower he had mentioned before. "Oh, Reginald. One more thing."

"Yes?"

"I think I'd like a gym set up in that spare room off the kitchen. Or in the atrium. You know. Somewhere calming."

Reginald put his hand to his jaw. "I'll get right on it, sir. Right after I remove the evidence of your latest activities."

"Good man. I deserve a Christmas present after what I've been through." A moment later, he took the steps two at a time, whistling "Jingle Bells", clearly in a much better mood than when he had walked through the door.

Reggie watched the man go up the stairs like a boy at play before exhaling with relief. He could handle the Master's mood swings most of the time if he wasn't at the forefront of those swings. He figured that it would probably be a good idea to make sure that the foyer was in ideal condition before he found a dentist to address his jaw. And a cup of coffee and a large meal waiting after the Master finished his shower wouldn't be a bad idea either.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_December 25, 2006_

The phone rang as Jack's sat in his office. After the night before, Jack had sent everyone home for Christmas celebrations, except Marcus. After all, they had been the ones to call the police after the two of them had found the severed head and other body parts on their way into the Hub and had had to stay to give statements. If the Hub was going to run on a skeleton crew, he and Marcus were the logical choices. Due to the crime scene outside of their door, they had to use the elevator in and out, being cautious to make sure that no one was noticing their actions.

"Harkness," Jack answered as he held his cell to his ear. Only people that knew him would have the number.

"Do you know how difficult it was to locate your cell phone number, Captain Harkness? I must say that you are quite talented at covering your tracks."

"Yvonne Hartman, what a surprise," the man responded, a hint of sarcasm tinting his voice. "I learned from the best and brightest in Torchwood after all." He wasn't happy that she'd managed to find him. Normally any contact between her Torchwood and his...which he tried to keep to a minimum...came through the official comm-line.

"If Alex had been the best and brightest, he wouldn't have murdered his team, shot himself and left you in charge of Torchwood Three," the head of Torchwood One informed him in a haughty tone.

"What do you want, Yvonne? I'm a busy man," Jack answered back, ignoring the painful reminder of how he'd come to his position.

"Have you been watching the news?"

"What... watch the media twist and turn facts to their own spin? No time for that when I need to be focusing on the alien threats to the realm."

"Alien threats like weevils haunting the backwaters of Cardiff? Hardly worth the time for true patriots of the Crown."

"If the weevils decided to go on a killing spree en masse, you wouldn't see it that way."

"That's the difference between weevils in London and weevils in Cardiff. We already have our weevils under control."

"Ah, but you don't have a time rift washing more into your city like we do. A little hard to get them under control when they keep arriving."

"Hardly a matter. We have the means to protect the Empire even if you don't. But I didn't call to get into a discussion about pest control. Going back to the matter at hand, if you had been watching the news, you would have seen that we've had an incident. Guinevere One was supposed to transmit pictures from the surface of Mars late this morning. Instead, the transmission was hijacked by an alien intelligence and thus a genuine face of an alien was seen on live television."

"What does this have to do with Cardiff? I'm sure Torchwood One has all the resources to handle this. Or are you just calling to let me know the alien intelligence is planning a vacation to our fair city?"

The woman seemed extremely hesitant to speak as there was a long pause. "How many of your staff has A positive blood?"

It was Jack's time to pause. The question appeared to be completely non-sequitur but knowing Yvonne, there was a connection. "None. Why?" he responded with matched seriousness, all sarcasm removed from his words.

"Well, then you can lend me you and your staff. Probably only for a couple of days."

"You do know that as much as you consider us a backwater, we do have important work to do here. I have a staff of four."

"None so important than protecting this Empire and preventing a fourth of Great Britain's population from committing involuntary suicide."

Jack noticed Marcus at his door, the man's actions indicating he needed to talk with him. "Give me a moment, Yvonne." He put his phone on mute before the woman could complain. "What is it? I've got Torchwood One on the phone asking for us to head to London."

"And I think I know why. There are people all over Cardiff climbing to the top of buildings, towers, anything with height and ready to jump. If that's happening in London as well, Director Hartman is probably at her wit's end."

"And I'd bet they all have A positive blood, don't they?"

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." He took the phone off mute. "Yvonne, the Empire needs protection here as well. We have people doing the same thing here as they're doing there."

"And a fourth of my staff is on the roof. There's an alien ship hanging above London. Prime Minister Jones has just ordered us to prepare to act and I don't have enough people to do so."

"So I'll send you a fourth of my staff."

"That's one person!"

"Exactly. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it, namely _you_," she responded with anticipating tinting in her voice.

"Sorry," Jack told her smoothly. "In such an emergency, a director is not to leave their post. Queen and country. I'll send Marcus. He's worked with you before."

Again, there was a long pause. "I suppose that will have to do," she finally responded, noticeably disappointed that Jack wouldn't be coming himself.

Jack smiled. He knew if he went, it was likely she'd tried to find some way to keep him there. Hell, she'd been biting at the bit to convince the powers that be that he should be the subject of research to determine the source of his regenerative abilities. "He should be in London within the next four hours."

"I hope that will be soon enough," Hartman replied.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a similar situation to deal with out here in the boonies. Pleasure doing business with you, Yvonne." The sarcasm was back full force.

"Always, Captain Harkness," came the equally sarcastic response before the director of Torchwood One hung up on the other end.

Jack took the phone from his ear and looked at it with disgust. "Great. Now I have to change my phone number again."

"That bad, huh," Marcus commented with a wry smile, understanding in his eyes.

"Yeah. Sorry, Marcus, but I have to throw you under the bus on this one. You've at least worked with her before. Sending anyone else would be like sending sheep to the slaughter."

The latter shrugged. "What the hell. Part of the job. Besides, when this is over, I can stop by Hendrick's and pick up a few things."

"Okay. You better get going. I'll call the rest in to deal with the situation here." He shook his head. "I'm sure glad none of us have type A positive blood."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Jack felt miserable. It was Christmas Day, but he didn't feel any joy. After the night before and the murder literally at the doors of Torchwood, not to mention Yvonne Hartmann making his holiday just that much more unpleasant, he felt numb. Owen's confirmation that alien DNA had been found at the murder scenes where the brutality of the killings had been... simply grotesque... and the pictures with the Gallifreyan language...

Jack still couldn't believe it could be the Doctor. No matter that all of the evidence to date was screaming it had to be him. He just couldn't believe it. Not the Doctor.

As he turned the corner to come into Millennium Square, he stopped, his eyes wide. He blinked sure that this must be a hallucination brought on by his recent thoughts. Then seeing a tall, thin man with a young girl beside him as he worked a key into the lock, he knew. This wasn't a hallucination.

"Doctor!" he yelled, running towards the blue box. After one hundred thirty plus years of looking, he was sure this was the right one: long brown overcoat over a brown pinstriped suit and that well-gelled hair. What was more, he'd seen that face before a long time ago, back when he'd gone to collect an alien body from UNIT. Even though the fact the TARDIS was here, near the sight of the brutal, but rushed murder at Mermaid Quay, appeared to support the supposition that his friend was the murderer, he still needed to see him, find out why he'd been left all those years ago. However, as he got closer, the sound of the time ship's engines ripped through the night air. Before he could finish closing the distance between him and the TARDIS, it vanished. "No!" Jack yelled. His hands were fists. "So close! So damned close and he just leaves. Again. Damn it! Damn it!"

When he finally reached the spot, he just looked at it. "Did you need to come back to see the aftermath?" he asked quietly.

A moment later, Tosh, who obviously had come up via the elevator, stepped into view. "Jack? Are you okay?"

He exhaled slowly. "I hate Christmas," he growled. "What is it, Tosh?"

"Did you see it?" she asked.

"See what?"

"The police box that came through the rift. That's what brought me up here."

He looked at her for a moment. "I think you need to readjust your instruments, Tosh. There was no police box out here. What would a police box be doing in the middle of the plaza anyway?"

"Exactly. That's why I came to investigate." She paused. "You must have seen it. It was here. Not only did I see it on the monitor, clear as day, but rift activity sky-rocketed. Energy levels also went up but, for some reason, it seemed to be drawn to the police box. Wouldn't have even seen the thing if the energy levels hadn't been so high. Owen saw it too."

Knowing that there was no way that he could convince both Tosh and Owen that the sight of the TARDIS was all in their heads - and not wanting to Retcon them over something that minor - he exhaled. "I guess if you say it was there, it was there. I'm just saying, I'm not sure what I saw but I didn't think it was a police box. Who knows what the hell comes out of the rift or goes back in. Just chalk up what you saw as another unexplained phenomenon."

Tosh bit her lip. Jack again seemed to be hiding something but it was obvious he wasn't going to open up. "Unexplained phenomenon. Right. Seem to be a lot of those recently."

"That's life living on a rift in time and space," Jack replied, grinning at her as he went to the elevator and got ready to press a button on his vortex manipulator to activate it. "Going down. Coming?"

Tosh moved over to the elevator. "Yeah. I have some work to do on reviewing an algorithm that Gooshie asked me to look over."

"Oh, no, you don't," Jack told her firmly. "Christmas Night, remember? We're going to get ourselves plastered until Boxing Day."


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_December 30, 2006_

Marcus walked into the Hub, noting Tosh was at her computer station. He climbed up to the platform, a large box in his hands. "How did things go here in Cardiff?"

"Oh, we basically babysat a bunch of people for a couple of hours before everyone seemed to wake up all at once and came down on their own," she responded, her eyes fixed on her screen. "Did you survive 'Duchess Yvonne'?"

"Yes, but glad to be back. You won't believe what I found."

"Unless it's chocolate, I don't care."

"It's definitely not chocolate. It's just really cool."

"What's cool?" Jack asked as he came out of his office.

"This," Marcus stated with a grin, patting the box with obvious affection.

"Do I get to see what's inside or do you want to offer me Door #2?" When both Tosh and Marcus looked at him as if he lost his mind, he shrugged. "Old American TV show." Nodding to the box he then asked, "So what is it?"

Marcus gestured for him to follow as he placed the box on the coffee table on the far side of the room. Sitting on the couch, he slowly opened the box before leaning back. "Take a look."

Tosh and Jack obeyed, the former frowning with disgust, the latter with confusion.

"It's a disembodied hand in a jar," Tosh stated.

"Oh, it's more than that. It's the Doctor's hand."

Jack's head shot up at Marcus' words. "What?"

"The invasion... by the Sycorax... was stopped by the Doctor."

"You mean, the Doctor Doctor?" Tosh questioned with interest.

Marcus nodded. "Of course once the Sycorax were leaving, Torchwood was ordered to destroy them. Made the Doctor bloody mad from what I understand. He must be pretty high up... a word from him and now Prime Minister Jones is facing a vote of confidence crisis."

"This is the Doctor's hand," Jack stated for confirmation.

"Unless there are other hands falling from the sky... yeah. Landed in a mud field I was standing next to. Good thing too 'cause a fall from that height should have smashed it flat. But that's not the coolest part."

Almost as if on cue, the trio saw what interested Marcus so much, causing Tosh to gasp and jump back in fright. "It moved!"

"Yeah. Fantastic, yeah?"

"Why didn't Torchwood One keep it?" Jack asked, fascinated by the extremity that was sitting in the jar.

"They didn't know about it," Marcus replied with a mischievous grin. "I knew the Doctor was on the alien vessel thanks to my connections at Torchwood One but, when I got the chance, I slipped out to look at their ship in person and a moment later... wet splat."

"So you just... took a disembodied hand and put it in a jar?" Tosh put in, slowly returning to the box in order to get a better look at the object.

"Yeah. I figured he wouldn't need it anymore. Found out later he grew another one. Weird dude."

"Time Lords can regrow appendages and make other major physiological repairs as long as they are within the first fifteen hours of their regeneration," Jack put in, seeming to be reciting his words by rote. Almost to himself he added, "Something bad must have happened recently for him to regenerate." Did that mean that the Doctor had changed his appearance again from the tall lanky man he'd seen only five days before?

"Okay... anyways, I thought it would be a cool souvenir."

Tosh started to chuckle. "Or a pet. We could name it Thing."

"You know you can't keep it, Marcus. Torchwood rules state that any alien object uncovered on British soil must be confiscated."

"It's a hand! How are we going to defend the Empire with a disembodied hand? Slap people with it?"

"It doesn't matter what it is or what we can do with it. The Phelsican snow globe thing we found has no defensive purpose either but we still have it in our collection. You can't keep the hand."

"Then what do we do with it?" Tosh asked. "Still say we should keep it as a pet. It can irritate Owen by crawling around his work station."

"He'd probably stomp on it," Marcus countered.

"I'll keep it," Jack stated firmly. When they looked at him questioningly, he added, "In the Hub, of course. But first we need to make sure it's in a proper containment vessel and I don't think Grandma's pickle jar will do. I should be able to build one for it." He put a hand on Marcus' shoulder. "I'm glad we have it and not Torchwood One. It's good you're part of our team."

"Thanks, Jack. Always try to do my best. Still... can I borrow it on occasion? You know, like Halloween?"

"We'll see," the head of Torchwood Three answered noncommittally.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_January 12, 2007_

Tosh finished printing out the report from the files on the murder investigations that Jack had asked her to acquire. Since the most recent of the three brutal murders had occurred literally at their doorstep, Jack had become almost obsessed with learning as much as he could about them. Sure, Tosh could understand his concern. After all, he had been the one to call the police after he and Marcus had found the severed head on their way into the Hub. Since then, the head of Torchwood stayed close to the investigation, wanting to learn as much as possible.

Tosh was curious as to why her boss had become so focused on what was obviously a police matter. He seldom cared much about anything that didn't have to do with aliens. Like those women being cleaned up with the Banzetian Sanitizer. There still hadn't been a sign of the missing piece of alien technology since that one man had been found in the alley. When Owen had examined that body, as per orders from Jack, he'd found absolutely nothing to help them with their search. As such, the body of Thom Mattison was stored in the Hub's freezers and a substitute body from their morgue was dumped in the river several miles from Torchwood Three.

Tosh's focus returned to the reports. As she scanned the pages in her hand, her forehead creased. "Mutant DNA? What the hell does that mean?" Studying the report again, she blinked. "It must be alien after all." If this was so, her boss's interest in the murders now made total sense. Gathering up the reports, she went to his office and walked in without knocking. "They're being done by some alien, right?" she said, quite pleased with herself that she'd figured it out.

"What?" Jack asked as he quickly put away some papers he was looking at. His eyes looked absolutely haunted.

"The murders you are so interested in," she reminded with a frown, certain that he hadn't heard her properly. "They're being done by an alien?"

"Why would you say that, Tosh?"

Her brow creased further at his question as she again scanned the reports in her hand. "Forensics found mutant DNA at all three murders."

He reached out. "Let me see those." He took them from her and looked over the evidence. Without even another word to her, he contacted Owen, who was out on patrol. "I need you back here to take a sample and run the DNA on it."

Tosh blinked at Jack's abrupt actions, wondering what could be in the reports that would have him completely ignoring her contributions or why it was so important for Owen to run DNA tests, especially when she couldn't figure out on what. "Thanks, Tosh," she told herself as she turned to leave the office. "Good work, Tosh. You deserve a raise, Tosh." She sighed in frustration when it was obvious that Jack wasn't taking the none-too-subtle hints she was giving him.

About fifteen minutes later, Owen walked in. He looked over to Tosh who was again on the computer scanning for any rift or other somewhat bizarre activities. "What does he want now? 'Owen, do this... Owen, do that...' You'd think that we're his bloody servants rather than colleagues!"

"You're telling me," Tosh grumbled to herself. Not that Owen ever really paid attention to her other than to get the information he wanted from her. It was at times like this that she wondered why she joined Torchwood in the first place. Then again, life in a UNIT prison wouldn't have been all that appealing and certainly not nearly as interesting.

As the two commiserated, the man they were complaining about walked out of his office into the main room. "Owen. Good. This will be your top priority." He went over to the glass container that held the Doctor's hand. "I need you to extract some DNA from this hand and run a full analysis on it."

"DNA from Thing. Why the hell would you need that? You know whose it is!" Owen commented sarcastically.

"Yeah. I know. Just do it," Jack responded, not at all amused at Owen's attitude. He then ignored the looks Tosh and Owen gave him and continued. "Tosh... I need you to get the file on the analysis of that 'mutant DNA' they found at the murder scenes. After both of those reports are available, I'll need a full comparison between them. You two should probably work together on this one."

"Oh, even better," Owen grumbled. Feeling Tosh's glare, he shrugged. "Not anything against you, Tosh, but I prefer to work alone." He turned to Jack as Tosh responded.

"Goes for me too," Tosh agreed.

"You really think the Doctor has something to do with the murders? He is enemy number one but he's been that for a long time. You think he got bored and decided to start butchering humans?"

Jack glared at Owen. "Did I say I thought the Doctor has anything to do with these murders? The Doctor is an alien and Torchwood's been out to get him since the beginning and right now, with the evidence pointing to an alien having committed the murders, Hartman would have a lovely excuse to add more charges to his trumped up list. Ever think this could exonerate him?" He really hoped that was what was going to happen because if it pointed to his friend, he would be giving Owen all the evidence necessary to trap the Doctor without a way out. Still... he needed to know. "So get over it, you two. I want answers and I want them quick." He went over to the coat rack and pulled off his signature outerwear. "Give me a call when you have those answers." As he went over to the door, he tossed back, "And Owen? Make sure you don't damage the hand. Just enough sample to do the work... that's all." Then he walked out the door.

"Right," Owen replied just as Tosh nodded her affirmation. They waited until Jack had left before looking at each other with disconcertion.

"I'm not sure that Jack is... well," Tosh started, timidly voicing her opinion.

"I'm sure... and he's not," Owen answered. He looked at the hand in the jar for a long moment. "Still, I never thought he'd have me test Thing. He knows it creeps me out."

With that, they got to work on Jack's strangest request yet. About three hours later, they were finished. Tosh called Jack and let him know.

About twenty minutes after being informed, Jack walked back into the Hub. Knowing how Owen had reacted to the request in the first place, he couched his words to point towards exoneration. "So, are they the same or does this prove the Doctor has nothing to do with these murders?"

Owen seemed to be uncertain how to respond to the question but there was no hesitation in answering. "That depends on your definition of 'same.'"

"I mean... is the DNA from the Doctor?" He seemed almost leery of the answer although he kept up his bravado.

"Hard to tell," came the reply. "I've never seen anything like it so it's a bit difficult to even identify what is or isn't normal. Both samples are blatantly alien. I mean, really alien. They're not even close to any alien DNA I've ever seen and that includes weevils." Seeing the look on Jack's face, one of impatient patience - something only Jack could pull off, in his opinion - he continued. "However, I am ninety-nine per cent certain both samples are from the same species. The same person? Couldn't tell you that if I wanted to. We just don't have the technology to differentiate between the two with any sort of accuracy. So I guess it's still a tossup as to whether it exonerates the Doctor. Best I can say is one of his species is the most likely perpetrator."

Jack's eyes closed for a moment and his two colleagues were certain they saw a look of pain cross his face. He reopened his eyes. "But the same species."

"Absolutely. Plus there's this weird resonance from both of the samples that makes it abundantly obvious, even if I didn't see one hundred percent genetic banding to prove it."

Jack stood there dumbfounded for a moment. He then looked down, exclaiming barely audibly, "Damn it! What the hell happened?"

"To what?" Dr. Harper questioned with a frown.

Tosh's head tilted. "Do you know who's committing these murders, Jack?"

Jack looked up suddenly. As he did, his face regained its mysterious calm. "No. I don't." His shoulders sagged slightly. "I'll be in my office. I don't want to be disturbed." He turned with military precision and went in, closing the door behind him before going over to his desk, sitting, and putting his head face down on his folded arms.

Owen blinked for a moment, seeing Jack's actions through the window of the office. "What's eating him, then, if he doesn't know?"

Tosh didn't say anything at first. She saw the same actions and somehow knew Jack had lied to her. He knew, or at least thought he knew, who was so brutally murdering these people. But until he was ready, they'd never get anything out of him. "Just leave him alone, Owen. Just leave him alone." She went back to her computer and started scanning again. It was better to get her mind off of her assumed revelation.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_Cardiff, Wales_

_February 2007_

It was deep winter and the city had regained its calm, at least somewhat, having gone through the Christmas season proper without another murder. Torchwood had continued their vigilance, protecting the planet from alien technology. Suzie had pointed out, back in December, the irony that the official Christmas tree that held vigil over the Roald Dahl Plass was lit with technology that Torchwood London had marketed to meet their recent resource needs for additional staff.

Since then, Jack had regained his balance somewhat. He was still tight-lipped about what he knew but his unique personality was again coming to the fore. He was even volunteering to take multiple outings. Tonight, he was out with Marcus, tracking down a lead of some eyewitness accounts of 'ghosts,' not that Jack believed they were actually seeing ectoplasmic residue as a result of death. But the eyewitness reports were so wide spread throughout the world that it was obvious that something was going on.

They'd spent the last three hours driving through the streets of Cardiff and not once had they seen anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm telling you, Jack. This is a wild goose chase. You know as well as I do there's no such thing as ghosts," Marcus groused.

"I know there's no such thing as ghosts. You know there's no such thing as ghosts. But over a thousand sightings at exactly the same time just within the city, plus reports of other sightings around the world in mass quantities - again at the same time - tell me that there's something out there. Don't believe all the hoopla we spout to the media about hallucinogens in the water when we're covering up our own activities."

"Yeah... well... there is tha..." He halted his words abruptly. "Stop the car, Jack!" When the head of Torchwood didn't do it immediately, Marcus said again in a harder voice. "Stop the bloody car!"

"Okay, okay!" Jack conceded, doing as was demanded of him. "Don't tell me you saw a ghost."

Marcus didn't answer as he jumped out of the vehicle and ran towards a nondescript van. "Oh shit," he said as he got closer and realized the substance leaking out of the vehicle wasn't strawberry jam.

Jack hurried out of the SUV and followed Marcus to the van, stopping when he saw the blood dripping from the back doors. Taking a breath as he pulled out his revolver, he took hold of the handle and turned it, opening the doors in one swift move.

"Oh, gawd!" he exclaimed at the sight of the body which lay in the back of the van, seemingly presented on a blanket of red paint. Jack hastily looked around the van and saw paper draping from the driver's side bucket seat. "I'll be right back, Marcus."

Marcus simply stared at the body, chanting in an almost trance. "No... no... no..."

Ignoring the strange reaction from his employee, Jack hurried around to the driver's side door. He quickly opened the door and picked up the paper he'd seen, regarding it with a heavy heart. "No," he whispered, seeing the telltale Gallifreyan script on the bottom right hand corner. However, this particular paper was different from the other three that he had found with the previous murders. Whereas the first three had two Gallifreyan symbols on it, this one only had one. In addition, there was now a message written in English beside the symbol: "In vengeance for my beloved queen." He blinked with growing confusion. "A blood feud?" he questioned. This new dynamic made things that much more of a mystery. "Why is he doing this? Who's this 'queen'?"

Suddenly, there was a scream from the back of the van. Rolling the paper and thrusting it in his pocket, Jack ran to Marcus and found him shaking violently. "What is it?"

"I touched him! I only touched Shamus and look what happened! He's in slices... perfect slices! Like a fucking butcher did this! Who the hell else would do something like that?"

Jack looked at the body for a moment, stunned by seeing the literal unraveling of it in an almost spiral cut... like a person would see on one of those expensive hams. This had to have taken a long, long time to accomplish and spoke to a sick perfectionism in the execution. He swallowed down the urge to vomit, despite having seen the results of the other killings that had obviously been done by the same person. His thoughts, however, were drawn from the scene of the horrendous crime when he realized that Marcus had given the body a name.

"You... you knew him?" he questioned with surprise.

Marcus looked at Jack with derision. "Yeah. I knew him. I knew all of them, Jack. Someone's tracking us down."

There were a couple of things a person learned to trust over the years as a Time Agent and later as a Torchwood agent. The first and foremost of these was instincts. And right now, Jack's were screaming at him to press for more information, especially when all his research was pointing to the Doctor being responsible for these atrocities. "This Shamus person isn't Torchwood, Marcus. Who is 'us'?" He took a breath, trying to understand what was presented to him. "What did you do?!"

"The 'cleaner,' Jack? Did you really think that Yvonne would actually destroy it? If you believe that, you're more of a twit than she is."

"Not in the least. Just figured she gave you a nice story to cover up her holding on to it. Obviously... I was wrong." He looked at Marcus with astonishment. "You killed all those women, didn't you?"

"No. I didn't," Marcus taunted.

"But you said..."

"I said _I _didn't kill them. It was more of a group effort. We hunted them down and then we all had a share of the sport."

Jack regarded him with wide eyes. "You're sick!"

Marcus shrugged. "Depends on your definition of sick. Why the hell shouldn't we have fun? There's too many frigging people in the world anyway. We just lessened the ecological load a little. The fact we enjoyed doing it... well... I guess some would call that sick."

The head of Torchwood just shook his head in disbelief. He'd been through a whole hell of a lot of shit in his very long life but he'd never - _never _- encountered anything so depraved as the person he saw in front of him. And to think he actually _liked _this guy! Even considered him a close friend! "I see why he did it now. You're the very definition of insane! You've pushed him over the edge!"

Now it was Marcus's turn to be surprised and confused. "You know who's doing this? You've seen what's happened to my mates! If you condone that, who's the crazy one?"

"I don't condone it. That doesn't mean I don't understand the motive," Jack contradicted him. "How many of you are in this 'gang' of yours?"

Marcus looked back at Shamus, a shiver going up his spine before answering. "I'm the last one... and he's not going to get me. I know places to hide that no one will find me. Not even you, Jack."

"He'll find you, Marcus!" Jack protested. "If he's gone to this length, he'll find you. No matter where you go, the Doctor will finish what he started. That I can promise you." He paused, extending his hand to him. "Come with me. I can protect you from him."

"The Doctor? How do you know he's doing this? I thought you said that he's not anything like what we've heard." He looked at Shamus and then back at Jack. "If he can do things like this then you've been protecting a madman and he should be hunted down like the sick bastard he is."

"You're one to talk! What you and your gang did to all those women... You fed into his concept of justice and pushed him to hunt you down."

Marcus looked incredulous. "You're still defending him? You must be in league with the Doctor, Jack. Otherwise, you would have gone to the police."

"I'm not defending his actions, I'm rebuking yours! He never would have done anything like this before but it's obvious that you and your gang changed him. I take care of my own, Marcus, which includes the Doctor and you. He may be insane thanks to you but he'll listen to me. I can keep you safe and save him."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take my chances." The man then turned to walk away, determined to keep himself safe. He'd taken precautions and now it was time to put his "on the run" plan in place.

Jack started after him, knowing that he had to stop him for his own good. "Marcus!" he called to him.

"Bugger off, Jack," Marcus called over his shoulder. "Tell your friend he'll have a hard time getting me."

"I'll help him find you if I have to," came the reply. "Not that I'll need to."

The ex-Torchwood Cardiff operative turned angrily. "Can't let you do that, Jack. Sorry but I just can't." He pulled an alien disrupter out of his pocket. "Too bad it has to end like this, Jack. You were a pretty good guy to work with. A little too trusting but a good guy." With those words said, he discharged the weapon.

"I'm trying to help y..." Jack started before the weapon vaporized his head, his body dropping to the ground like a sack.

"Try to help him hunt me down now." Marcus then faded into the shadows.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

The strains of Vivaldi echoed through the rented house. The Master had completed his shower and was heading down the stairs to the late night dinner which Reggie had prepared for him. "A perfect end to a perfect ending... well, for Mr. Shamus McGrady anyway." He sighed contentedly.

"I take it this time you did enjoy yourself, sir?" Reggie asked. He was one hundred percent sure he wouldn't have a repeat of the two months of dental repair he'd gone through after the last killing.

"Idyllic," the Time Lord assured. "Absolutely and positively idyllic. You outdid yourself, Reginald."

"You liked the sound proofing technology, I take it, sir."

"It was perfect! You know, someone actually walked past the van and they didn't hear a sound? Or at least they thought Shamus and I were a boy and his girlfriend having a bit of fun. And who's going to interrupt that?" He exhaled breathily. "I haven't had such a marvelous time killing someone in... several hundred years."

"I'm very happy for you. I'm sure Dr. Langford will appreciate your freedom from stress. She does seem to gravitate to you when you're with her. I even heard Dr. Wilkins say he wouldn't be surprised if she regained full consciousness soon."

"Right now, I'm just grateful that she's finally breathing on her own. Hated seeing her all bundled up with wires and tubes everywhere." He took a bite of his dinner, relishing the steak that had been prepared for him to perfection - medium rare with a hint of Hollandaise sauce on the side. "Mmm. Gorgeous," he complimented. Looking up into Reggie's eyes, he smiled. "You know, Reginald, you really have been quite a boon for me since you took on the mantle of my assistant. In fact, you're such an asset that I'm going to insist that you be my assistant permanently."

"Permanently, sir?" He considered the offer. His boss was the greatest person to work for when he was in a good mood but he'd seen – and was subjected to – the consequences that could be bestowed on his underlings when not. He coughed. "But I thought Dr. Langford..."

"Dr. Langford will be taking on other responsibilities once she is well enough to do so," the Master told him genially. "Besides, my obvious affection for her now makes her ill-suited for the job." He smiled lecherously. "And I'm sure she and I will find the right position for her once her health has returned. Maybe three or four within one night."

"Ah," Reggie stated, fully understanding the innuendo but figuring it wasn't his place to comment. He noted that the Master's wine glass was close to empty. "Let me refill that for you. I know you like your cabernet with your steak."

"Thank you, Reginald," the Gallifreyan beamed at him, allowing the assistant to take the glass from him. He sighed once again, still glowing from the marvelous evening he'd had so far. "I really feel like celebrating, you know? Maybe find some night club to dance the rest of the night away. Then again, I'd probably wind up burning it down for the fun of it."

"A video, then? I took the liberty of renting several of your favorites. Perhaps the 'Best of Telletubbies?'"

"Those little creatures with the tellies in their stomachs?" the Master said with childish excitement. "Ooo! Better yet! 'Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons!' Love that show! You humans have such marvelous disillusions about space travel. And real Martians are nothing like the Mysterons. And mangos and peppermint maraschino cherries with a big Thermos of tea."

Reginald smiled as he retrieved the requested treats. Tonight would be a peaceful one. He might even get in a chapter or two on his most recent literary acquisition.

DWQLTWDWLQTW

Pain was the first sensation Jack felt. The ache in his head - or rather the ache that _was _his head - was enough for him to repress a cry. Whatever had happened to him, he knew that it wasn't good and that this discomfort was only going to get worse. The next feeling Jack encountered was momentum. Slowly, the fact he was in a dark place gained his attention. The closed in sides of thick plastic like material was the final clue to where he was. "A body bag? Damn it. I hate when that happens!" His jaw felt strange, almost as if it wasn't even there, and, remembering how his life ended this time, he quipped, "Good thing I don't scar."

The closeness of the tube-like structure, as well as the fact that it was designed to be opened from the outside, prevented him from undoing the closure. Instead, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his switchblade which he'd kept with him since the first time he'd woken up in such a predicament. He recalled that death and chuckled remembering the look on the orderly's face when the bag had been opened and Jack had popped up fresh as a daisy. It didn't help that it was during World War I. The poor orderly was absolutely convinced Jack was evidence of a new German weapon of some kind... or a zombie... or both. Of course, it did mean the fellow was sent home on a Section 8 discharge. Jack had even looked up the man a few years later, happy to see him raising his new family.

Now he activated the mechanism and used the blade to cut through the bag. A few minutes later, he was out. Noticing the other bag beside him, he said with anger in his voice, "You bastards. The man has lived how many lives and it took scum like you to push him into insanity. You might not have fully deserved the torture but you certainly deserved the punishment!"

"Hey," a voice said from Jack's right, muffled by a plate of metal. "Did you hear something?"

"Must be the radio or something. Just turn it off."

The owner of the first voice obviously tried that. "It isn't on!"

"Then you're hearing things. Seeing bodies like those two will do that to you. I'm telling you, buddy. There are a lot of right sickos out there. I'm never going to look at ham again, that's for sure."

"It weren't the bodies. I heard something!"

Jack figured he had a few moments before they stopped the vehicle and came to check what the sound was, so he opened the door of the lorry and jumped out into the night.

Cleared of the lorry, he looked at his surroundings. "Marcus," he murmured to himself. At this point, Marcus was his best lead for finding the Doctor. "I just hope I find him before the Doctor does. Otherwise..."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Tosh blinked at the screen. "Oh, shit," she exclaimed.

"What?" Suzie asked.

"There's been another murder."

"Another one? You mean those torture ones? I thought they stopped."

"Apparently not. This time they found two bodies." She paused. "Maybe we should let Jack know."

Susie immediately lifted her cell phone to call Jack's number, not getting an answer. "I think something's wrong. Let's go find them. Tosh, keep an eye out for anything that can help. CCTV, police radio... anything."

The communications expert took in a breath as she nodded. Since the murders appeared to be starting again, she was going to confront Jack when she saw him. She felt he must have a reason for not saying anything but, there were limits and she wasn't sure one hadn't just been crossed. "I'll wait here and let you know if I hear from them."

Suzie and Owen didn't acknowledge her words and headed out the door. Later that evening, they reconvened.

"Where the hell are they? It's like they disappeared off the bloody planet," Owen exclaimed.

"I don't know," Suzie responded. "We've got to find them though." She went into her authority mode. "Until we do, nobody goes home. We'll sleep in shifts. Someone always manning the Hub and one person out on the street. Got it?"

Tosh and Owen nodded slightly at the order given. A quick vote between them decided who would take the first shift before they separated to their respective tasks: one searching, one monitoring, one sleeping as best they could. They'd do this until they had their answers... one way or the other.


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The next morning, Harold Saxon was practically skipping into the hospital, a broad grin adorning his face, and a vase with periwinkles and roses in a beautiful topiary in his hands. He was still basking in the success of his latest conquest and was looking forward to spending quality time - albeit one way - with his beloved. He almost dropped the arrangement, however, when he stepped into the doorway of the hospital room and saw the same color as the blue flowers in his hand staring at him from Peri's lovely face. "You're awake!"

Peri Langford grinned broadly at him but instantly dropped the smile as it hurt to continue it. Nonetheless, the pleasure of seeing her Harry in the doorway of her hospital room shone in her blue eyes. "Harry... it's you. It's really you. I thought... I thought I'd dreamt your voice."

He moved quickly to her side, concerned by the drop of her smile. Placing the topiary on the nearby bed table, he gazed into her eyes from his standing position. "Oh, Peri. I was so worried about you. We've been here for months now. Had to spend Christmas in Wales, of all places. Dreadful and even worse because you weren't with me."

"It... it was?" she questioned, hope in her voice.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "Of course, it wouldn't have even been tolerable if Reginald wasn't by my side."

She blinked at his words, stunned by them. "Reginald?" She grimaced slightly. "Torkinson?" she queried incredulously. "That little milquetoast?"

"That's what I thought as well at first. Of course, he was only assigned as my assistant when all the other ones were... um... indisposed."

She regarded him for a long moment, trying to understand his words - did he really just say he replaced her as his assistant with Reginald Torkinson? - before realizing just what he meant by "indisposed." "Oh, Harry... you didn't..." she gently berated.

"Well..." the Master said, looking down and kicking at the floor. "No one could make tea, or produce an adequate letter, or... or... anything."

"You missed me?" she wondered about his sudden school boy attitude, so very unlike anything she had seen in his personality before.

"Well... I didn't think so at first but..." He suddenly brightened. "I finally realized something." Dropping into the always nearby chair, he gazed into her eyes. "I found that I care for you quite strongly, Peri." He paused and then said again with more intensity, "Quite strongly."

She swallowed tightly at his words. "You... you... you do?" Her eyes shimmered with emotion at his confession.

"Yes, my dearest. I do. And I promise I'll never send you away from me again. I want you by my side, always. My queen, my gem, my treasure, my precious."

His words of affection were too much for her to bear after all that had happened to her in the last few hours - for that was all she could recall despite having been in the hospital for months. Tears started to trickle from her eyes as she hiccupped in a desperate attempt to stymie the emotional outburst.

The Master blinked in confusion. "You're unhappy? I thought sure you felt the same way." His eyes turned almost desperate. "Please don't cry, Peri. I don't think I can see that. It... it... hurts somehow... here," he said touching his chest. "Like there's something seriously wrong with my hearts."

She quickly wiped at her tears, laughing and sobbing at the same time. "Oh... H... Harry! You... silly boy! I've... n... never been so h... happy in all m... my life!"

"Really?" he asked, his head tilting. "You apes. I can never figure you out entirely." He moved in closer, taking down the side rail and sitting by her side. "Well then, now that we have that settled, I have so much to tell you."

Peri wiped at her eyes again, trying to keep up with her mercurial beloved's mood swings. And she thought hers was bad at the moment. He just admitted to having feelings for her and he wasn't showing any physical affection? Not even a hug? Once again, her own tetchy emotions rebelled on her, causing her to sob.

The Master stared at her. He looked around, wishing there was someone that could help him understand when he suddenly thought of Reggie. Pulling out his cell phone, he called his assistant. "Reginald? Good news. Peri's awake." He paused for a second, obviously listening to the voice on the other side. "Yes, yes. I'm quite happy. I even told her I have strong feelings for her. But now, she's crying. What do I do?" There was a long pause again. "Really? That's all? You're sure?" Another long pause and then he finished. "Right. We'll see you later, then." He put the cell phone back in his pocket. "Good man, that Reginald. Now... let me see..." He gingerly reached out for her. He'd given hugs before but, in all those times, he'd never really meant the emotional context behind the action until now. "There, there, Peri. Everything is going to be fine."

She pushed him roughly away from her, clearly angry with his reaction. "Fine? Fine?! You had Reggie the Rooster give you relationship advice while I'm sobbing away? What kind of monster are you?"

The Gallifreyan sat there, confusion clearly showing on his face. "What? Reginald's one of your species. Certainly he's dealt with over-emotional female reactions before. I just figured that he'd be able to help me through this. These strong feelings of affection are quite new to me, you know. I just don't know how to handle them."

She sniffed slightly at his words, finally realizing exactly what the problem was. "You've... you've never been in love before?"

He tilted his head slightly as he considered her words. "Well... I suppose I loved my parents when I was younger..."

She blinked. "Suppose?" she queried. "You mean, you aren't sure?"

His head bobbed a bit. "Well, it was so very long ago. Besides, I really didn't see them much after I was eight."

"You didn't see them after you turned eight years old?" She gaped at him for a moment. "Oh, you poor thing!" She gripped his hand tightly - or at least as tightly as her weakened condition allowed her. "What happened?"

"I was accepted into the Academy. Quite an honor, that. Not all who look into the Untempered Schism are chosen."

"Like... boarding school?" Peri shook her head slightly. "But... they were your parents. Surely they visited."

"Why?"

"Because that's what parents do, visit their children."

"Thete's parents did. At least his father did. I always thought it was odd. He certainly didn't concentrate on his studies when his father was there, not that he concentrated on his studies that much to begin with. Instead, they'd take... holidays I think you call them on Earth. Very inefficient."

"Thete..." Peri murmured the name almost dreamily.

"Yeah. That's what I called him back at the Academy." He frowned. "But that was before we grew up and I saw who he really was. He goes by the name of the Doctor now. How sanctimonious is that?"

"You'd said his name before," she stated knowingly.

"Did I?" He frowned again, only this time it was because he couldn't remember. "I can't imagine I'd ever speak his name. Are you sure?"

"I heard it in my dreams... after... after..." She seemed to suddenly close up on herself, terror playing across her face.

At the sudden change in the woman, the Time Lord's eyes widened. "Peri, what's wrong?" He took her face in his hands and entered her mind to learn what was affecting her. Seeing once more the apes that had brutalized her, his anger was again stoked. He put a thought into her head. "They can't hurt you anymore, my love. By tonight, they will have all paid dearly. When you're ready, you can see how they suffered for their crimes." He held her protectively, rocking her gently. His lips caressed her forehead as he did so, their touch quietly calming her.

Peri blinked up at her Master with such complete trust, not at all frightened by his entering her mind. She didn't remember him ever having done it before, though she also got the reassuring impression that he might have despite her lack of memory... and that it was a good thing. When he slipped quietly from her mind, she allowed herself to be comforted, wishing that she had the strength to snuggle closer to him. Slowly, her eyes began to droop, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster she'd just disembarked. "I love you, Harry," she murmured, her voice slurred with the promise of sleep.

"I... um... lo... love you too, Peri." He found the words, though hard to get out at first, were true.

A slight smile played on her lips as a small sigh escaped. She felt herself being moved gently back into the bed, a pillow positioned perfectly under her head.

"Sleep now, my sweet. I will return after I have fully avenged you." He kissed her lightly on the mouth, straightened her covers, and left. The final hunt was on.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Marcus Erickson walked up the stairs to his backup apartment. He'd spent the last three days living in the underground nicks and crannies of Cardiff. He was sure he'd eliminated any connection to this apartment, a precaution he'd taken for this type of eventuality. Well, not this exactly. He certainly would have never believed he'd be running from some crazed alien. When Jack had told him the Doctor was after him, he'd just about fallen apart. He'd read the reports on this Doctor in the files when he was an operative of Torchwood London. But since coming to Cardiff, he hadn't really even heard one word about him. It looked like there was a reason for that. Jack was the Doctor's friend.

He put the key into the lock on his door. Too bad about Jack, really. The guy had actually been a rather decent person to work with. Unlike Yvonne Hartman, Jack seemed to take a wider view about the whole Torchwood thing. It was almost as if he believed the reason he was there was to keep these alien objects safe for later use. That had been Jack's main problem. He never understood that the only really good use for these things was to do what you wanted, that the use of the technologies gave humans powers that most people would only consider within the realm of science fiction.

Pushing open the door, he walked in, closing and locking it behind him. Then whistling happily, he moved out of the foyer and into the living room. He dropped his keys, abruptly stopping his whistle when he saw that someone was in the apartment with him. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my flat?!"

The immaculately and expensively dressed man looked up from his reading material, smiling from the couch on which he sat. "Oh, good! You're home! I was wondering when you would get here."

"Wha... wha..." Marcus started.

The Master didn't wait to listen to his unfinished thought, regarding the book in his hand with a slight grimace. "How can you read this? It's completely predictable. I'm only halfway into the book and I can already tell you the neighbor did it. Oh, did I just give away the ending? So sorry." He paused for a second. "By the way, your tea is stale, not that it will make any difference to you."

Marcus's eyes grew wide. "You're the Doctor!"

The Gallifreyan looked at the human with wide eyes as well for a moment before laughing softly. The laugh quickly turned into an outrageous guffaw, the Master literally bending over to hold his aching diaphragm. "You... you think that I'm... the Doctor?"

"That's what I heard. I was told that was who was killing all of us." He blinked. "I bet it was one of those last two women that Mikey and Thom took out, wasn't it. I'm telling you, we had nothing to do with them. That was them going off on their own. I told them no..." He was cut off by the man who stopped laughing.

"I couldn't care less about those women," the Time Lord told him. "If you fellows want to go hunt women right and left, you just go right ahead. What bothers me is that you picked one particular woman you really shouldn't have touched." He slowly stood from the couch. "I don't like people taking what is mine, especially not some dim-witted apes."

"Yours?"

"Dr. Periwinkle Langford, of course." There was a pause. "You mean you didn't get my notes? I'd left them out for the police to find."

"There were no notes." As his spoke, Marcus pulled out of his jacket a rather strange looking item that looked somewhat like a gun but not like any that had been seen on Earth... at least not by anyone alive. Jack was the last one to see it. He grinned. "Do you know what this little number can do?"

"Not one?" the Master questioned in response to the news about his notes, plainly stunned and a little upset. His next words were interrupted when he saw the object on Marcus' hands. He matched Marcus' grin and aimed his screwdriver at the object. "Yes, but it's absolutely useless now. Sorry.."

"What do you mean useless. This thing can take out a bloody wall."

"Well, if it was working it would."

Marcus scoffed as he pulled the trigger. The weapon only made a sad whine. "What did you do to it?"

"Adjusted it a bit, that's all. If you plug it into a wall, you'd have a lovely hairdryer now."

"Huh." Marcus looked down at the object in his hand before discarding it. "This Dr. Langford, though. She's your woman?" He was keeping up the conversation as he moved to another part of the room as if he were pacing.

"My woman," the Master repeated. "I rather like that. Very... proprietary."

"Oookay..." Marcus responded, reaching a bookshelf. He quickly reached in and found the weapon he was looking for. Only problem was, it was loud and he really didn't want to let on he was here to anyone else. Still, between dying at the hands of a maniac and having to explain the protoplasm on his couch to the police... he'd take the latter. "Goodbye, Doctor." He shot the weapon but nothing happened with it either. "What the hell?"

The Time Lord exhaled slowly, walking towards him. "First of all, I'm not the Doctor and I'm deeply offended that you even compared me to him." He paused, considering. "However, it is a lovely 'get out of jail free' card to keep on hand. Second... did you really think that I would be so stupid as to not check for weapons in this place and make sure they were all deactivated before you came?"

"How long have you been here?" the murderous Torchwood agent asked.

The Master looked at his watch, grimacing. "Really need to reset this. It's completely wrong." Sighing, he looked up into Marcus' eyes. "One hour, twelve minutes, thirteen seconds... fifteen... sixteen..."

"Oh... cute. You're obviously here to do me in and you crack jokes. Lovely." There was sweat on Marcus' brow.

"Well, if you can't enjoy your work, what's the point of doing it?" Taking another step towards his prey, he focused his telepathic abilities into Marcus' eyes, reaching for his mind. "Now, listen very carefully and do exactly as I say. You will come with me."

"Like hell I will! You're bloody off your rocker if you think I'll simply go quietly."

The Gallifreyan sighed with frustration. "Telepathic training. Oh, I hate having to do things the hard way!" Then, with great accuracy, he struck Marcus directly in the jaw, effectively rendering the man unconscious. Quickly reaching his free hand into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed up Reggie's number. "Reginald, put the book down and get up here."

Within two minutes, the loyal assistant had reached the flat. "Your right hook, sir? Very effective."

"But not nearly as tidy as I had wanted," the Master grumbled slightly.

"Well, it's good that you're flexible."

A grin reached the Time Lord's lips. "Carry him to the car, Reginald," he instructed.

"Very good, sir." Reggie threw the man over his shoulder and worked his way down the stairs, straining slightly under the weight.

The Master watched as his assistant proved that he was much stronger than he looked before regarding the apartment he was standing in. Giving a sigh, he shook his head. "No sense of style," he complained before starting for the door. He stopped abruptly, hurrying back to retrieve the large book he'd been reading. "Haven't finished my book! Wonder if I should make Marcus autograph it." He considered the idea for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, wouldn't be worth anything anyway. Besides, I wouldn't want to get blood on it. Maybe I'll get Sir Arthur to sign it later." He tucked "The Complete Sherlock Holmes" under his arm and bounded out the door.

Reggie had just finished putting the unconscious man into the back seat. "As soon as you're ready, sir," he said as he saw the Master walk out of the building.

"Bind him up in case he wakes up on the way?" the Master queried as he walked around the car and slipped into the passenger's side front seat.

"Of course. Did that first thing," Reggie informed him as he got into the driver's seat.

"Excellent," the Gallifreyan replied, doing a rather impressive impersonation of Mr. Burns from "The Simpsons," including templing his fingers. He then asked, "Did you get all the supplies?"

"Everything is prepared as you requested." Reggie started the car and moved it onto the road. "I even procured a few additional discs for the video. You'll be able to have up to two days of clear footage."

"You are too good to me, Reginald," the Master complimented. "You got the ropes, of course," he affirmed.

"Of course." He paused as he came to a stop sign and made sure to follow the rules of the road. "I've even brought both of the drawings. Mr. Erickson's and Mr. Mattison's. Shame you didn't get to take your revenge on the latter. But five out of six isn't bad."

"Terrific. I'm being chauffeured by Meatloaf," the Time Lord commented.

"Sir?" Reggie asked, obviously confused.

"You know... 'Two out of Three Ain't Bad?' Don't you listen to classic rock?"

Shaking his head, Reggie told him, "No. I tend to stick with classical music only. Soothing. Besides, in my opinion - not that that's important - why mess with perfection?"

The Gallifreyan blinked for a moment. "Oh, I enjoy classical music as well but I wouldn't call it perfect. Then again, neither is rock and roll. I guess I'm... eclectic." He took a breath as he reviewed aloud the list he'd given to Reggie. "Ropes, scalpels, handcuffs, baseball bat, acetylene torch, clamps, hydrochloric acid..."

"Yes, sir. I have everything. I even checked the list twice and added a few things you might find... helpful in your pursuit of justice."

"Ooo! Surprises! I like surprises!" the Gallifreyan said with obvious glee. He thought about what Reggie had said earlier about the drawings. "I need one more thing," he informed him.

"What would that be?"

"Paper," he replied. "And pens. It appears that Marcus in the back thinks that I'm one of my old enemies and, as such, he's given me a marvelous idea. Besides, I found out that all my previous drawings were never found. I want to be absolutely certain that isn't the case this time around."

"Strange. The constabularies are usually so diligent about keeping pertinent evidence at a crime scene. I'd think that having a drawing of the person killed would be exactly that."

The Master scratched his chin. "You'd think so. Unless UNIT is trying to cover everything up, which wouldn't surprise me in the least."

"That would be a likely explanation." The assistant continued driving, looking for an apothecary that sold other items as well. Pulling into the lot, he parked the car. "If you would wait here, sir, I'll be out in a minute." He left and a few minutes later returned with good size bag. As he got back into the vehicle, he handed the bag to the Master. "I think you'll find what you're looking for there."

The Master looked at the bag with a frown. "What did you do, buy out the whole shop?"

"Not exactly, although I did get a rather wide selection. Wasn't sure exactly what you would need."

The Time Lord examined the items purchased. "Ooo! Black and red paper! And metallic pens in a variety of colors! This should be fun!"

"I'm so glad you approve."

The remainder of the drive was quiet as the Master tested the pens and paper that Reggie had purchased, stopping and putting them away only as they approached a familiar warehouse. Marcus, fortunately, had stayed unconscious during the ride and through Reggie's transferring him from the car into the building. He'd placed him almost gingerly on the floor, knowing that his employer would want his last victim to be completely unharmed by anyone other than himself.

"Thank you, Reginald," the Master said, appreciation in his voice at the services of his assistant. "You may go. Don't expect to hear from me for at least a day." He didn't look as Reggie gave his verbal acknowledgement and left the building. The Master took the time his 'charge' was unconscious to look at the various items that Reggie had provided. He felt just like a kid in a candy store, trying to decide which implement he would use first. He then carefully slipped on the waiting coveralls, shoe covers and cap. Assured that he was fully protected from random splashes of blood, he dragged Marcus to one of the supporting girders. Bringing over a length of chain, he wrapped the chain several times around the girder before handcuffing his victim to the loose ends. He stood to the side awaiting Marcus' return to consciousness. After about three minutes he shook his head. "This just won't do." Going over to the wall, he pulled opened the fire cabinet and pulled out the hose. Activating it, water rushed out and he aimed it at the man. "Wake up, damn you!"

Marcus, sputtering at the aqueous assault came instantly awake. "Wha…!" he started. He could hardly get a breath with the water coming so furiously at him. "Stop! You're going to drown me!"

Shutting off the nozzle, the Master tossed the hose away with a dramatic flourish. "Oh, I seriously doubt you'd drown from a little bit of water."

"That wasn't a little bit, mate!" Marcus disagreed. He started to get up and realized then that his arms were effectively tied to the chain. A chill that didn't come from being soaked to the bone went up his spine. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked, fear present in his voice.

The Master grinned at him. "What do you think I'm going to do to you, Marcus?"

The Torchwood operative blinked. "Probably much the same as what you did to the rest." He grew more anxious. "You know, I have quite a bit of money stowed away. I could make you a very rich man if you let me go..." he tried to bargain.

The Gallifreyan started to laugh. "Money? You think I have any interest in money?" He thought for a moment. "Come to think of it... would this be the money that you donated to the Prometheus Institute? Such a generous donation."

"Prometheus Institute? What the hell is that? I've never given anything to any organization, much less that one."

"Umm... if you were to look at your financials, you would see that you did. I mean, after all, what would you need with it when it can fund this little project a friend of mine and I have? Well, I say a friend but that doesn't really describe our relationship."

"Huh?" Marcus questioned. "I don't understand."

The Master rolled his eyes. "Boy, are you thick. You can't bribe me with money when I've already stolen it from you, can you?" He shook his head. "The money, however, really doesn't have anything to do with you and me, our relationship. Like I said, you took what is mine, namely the virtue of Peri Langford, which mean that our relationship is more judicial. You're the criminal and I am judge, jury, and executioner."

The bound man looked quickly around the warehouse where just a few short months before they'd brought the Langford woman. He remembered that night vividly. He'd found her walking close to the Torchwood Hub and, on a lark, decided to call his gang and tell them to meet him on a nearby street before approaching her and laying on the charm. It had worked and, before long, the gang of six had had a night of great fun. She had fought them, attempted not to scream at first but they made sure she was tortured enough that she had no choice. Now, it seemed, he would pay for that spontaneous kidnapping. "No..." he moaned. "Please. Don't..."

"She said that several times," the Gallifreyan told him bluntly. "You didn't pay her any heed. Why shouldn't I do the same for you? Why should I spare you when you didn't spare her?" He leaned forward so that his face was looming over Marcus'. "I think you should know exactly what she felt, down to the last cut, the last shattered rib. Then, maybe, if I'm feeling merciful, I will let you die. But I seriously doubt it. In my view of justice, the punishment should surpass the crime."

Marcus blinked at him, the blood in his face draining. "I'm sorry! Please! Don't kill me!"

"You're only sorry that you were caught," the Master replied.

"No... no... no... nooo," the doomed man said almost as a mantra. "If you're not the Doctor, who are you?"

"Oh, you will be saying my name a lot in the next day or so, begging for death." Picking up his first torture implement, he grinned broadly. "You can start practicing immediately. My name... is the Master. Now... as you said before you and your little gang had your 'fun' with my queen… let the games begin." As he moved in closer, a sound most pleasant to his ears emitted from Marcus' mouth as the first of many screams was voiced.


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Jack looked everywhere in Cardiff that he believed Marcus might hide out, including the places where weevils tended to congregate, all to no avail. He knew he had to find him because, wherever he was, the Doctor was likely to show and he could finally get to the bottom of this mystery.

The leader of Torchwood sighed. From the strange meeting they'd had when Rose had called him "Mr. Spock," of all names, to the moment when he'd left him on Game Station, he'd grown to admire and appreciate the the Doctor's unique way of dealing with humanity and other species. Traveling with him had been the greatest single period of time he'd ever had. He never in all his years imagined him capable of such depravity. Even now, with the evidence in front of him, he had trouble accepting it. However, hope was fading that somehow someone other than the last Time Lord had left those notes at the horrific scenes of destruction and death. He recalled that Owen had said the DNA was related to the Doctor's hand at the species level. If there was only one of a species, then it made it pretty clear that the survivor of that race had to have left the telltale evidence that existed in every creature's nucleus.

He looked around the city from his favorite perch, namely on top of the Wales Millenium Centre. It wouldn't make any difference if he fell; he'd just come back. Still he'd never fallen and didn't plan on doing so today. "Maybe if I trace the murder scenes, it will lead to the last one before it's too late," he mused out loud. It couldn't hurt and at least it gave him a plan of attack. He turned and headed back down to the street and back to the first scene: the warehouse where his faith had been shaken.

Moving through the streets, he eventually came upon the warehouse once more. He was rather surprised to see a sign on the door: "Get it right this time!" He moved to the door opened it. This time, he immediately closed it and rushed to the closest container to throw up. This was the worst crime scene yet, made even more shocking by how surprised he was to see it. After he pulled away from the bent up garbage can, he wiped his mouth, tasting the sourness. "Oh... Doctor. Why? Why would you do this... this... horror?" Figuring he needed to go in and see if there was any clue to the Time Lord's whereabouts, he went in.

It was difficult to not hurry back to the trash bin as Jack carefully made his way through the warehouse, cautious about avoiding stepping into any evidence. Evidence, though, was a sick euphemism for what surrounded him. Strips of flesh hung from hooks attached to the supporting girders. Each collection of carcass had a piece of paper nearby.

Jack grimaced as he read the first he'd come across.

_"There was once an ape named Marcus_

_Who one night was turned into a carcass_

_Sliced up his arm_

_To his body caused harm_

_It was a marvelously enjoyable larkus!"_

"Bad poetry and worse subject," Jack critiqued, sickened. He looked at the body parts. "You should have let me help you."

Once more, he found the spot where the camera had been set only to see several others. "Why would he move the camera? Unless..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "There were multiple torture sites and this must have taken a long time. Marcus didn't have much time after he shot me."

In another location in the room, there was a note. "Hello, UNIT! Catch me if you can." Jack's heart sank deeper. He knew that the Doctor had worked with UNIT on a number of projects and obviously was taunting them with the Gallifreyan script. After all, the Time Lord was technically still on the payroll as their Scientific Advisor.

Walking through the warehouse, he came to a small office where a desk was still in the room. On it, he saw Marcus' head, sitting in a shallow tub, the face contorted in a silent scream. On one side of the tub was another horrible limerick:

_There once was a guy named Marcus_

_Who kidnapped a fine lady in a parkus_

_Sliced off his head _

_To make sure he was dead_

_But his screams made quite a big ruckus... _

_Okay, I know that doesn't rhyme but how many words rhyme with Marcus?_

On the other side of the tub were two pictures, one of Marcus and the other of the man whose body Suzie had found when hunting the weevil. The picture of the other man, however, was crossed out with a large red "X" and the words "Stolen from me" written under the drawing. The drawing of Marcus, however, was different than the ones Jack had procured before. Almost as if it were an afterthought, additional words were written, in English, under the picture: "Mission Accomplished. Hope you enjoy your present. Love always, The Doctor."

Jack stared at the closing and signature on the note. "Doctor." There was no doubt anymore. This sealed it. Looking around the warehouse, he collected every bit of paper left behind, every note and drawing. At the very least, he hoped that the papers would help him to figure out how the man he admired had fallen to such depraved lows. Knowing the police would likely be on their way in soon, he made sure he left no evidence of his being there and then walked away, numbly putting one foot in front of the other. Without thinking, he found his way into one of the back alleys where he knew no one would find him. Once there he let out a scream of pain, feeling even more betrayed that he'd felt on Game Station. The scream continued until he was hoarse. Then, exhausted, he slowly sank down until he was sitting on the ground. Pulling his knees up, he put his head on them, tears coming to his eyes for the first time in many years as he finally accepted that the man he'd once called friend had become nothing short of a monster.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

It was a couple of hours later when Jack slowly walked into the Hub. He didn't expect to find himself surrounded by his employees when he stepped into the underground top secret location of Torchwood Cardiff, all three of them talking practically at the same time, demanding information.

"Where have you been, Jack? You couldn't have called or something?" Suzie stated first.

"Yeah," stated Owen. "I haven't even been back to my flat for days."

Jack bit back a sarcastic comment on Owen's take of his absence. Typical Owen, only thinking about how he's been inconvenienced, or at least pretending to be so. "I was busy," he replied to the demands.

"Too busy to call?" Tosh questioned gaining a glare from her boss, who pushed through the small gathering and headed for his office.

"You didn't answer our question, Jack," Suzie demanded, following him. "Where were you? And where's Marcus?"

He exhaled slowly, turning to face his friends. "He's dead," he told them bluntly.

"What?" Owen asked. "How do you know that?"

"Yeah," Suzie stated. Tosh just fell back into her chair.

"Because I found his body," he choked out.

"You found his body? What happened?" asked Suzie. She noticed Jack's emotions were raw. "What was it you saw, Jack?"

Jack rubbed his face. He really didn't want to relive the moment quite yet. It was bad enough that he knew he had to explain to his team what had happened to their teammate. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts before leaning against a wall for physical - and perhaps emotional - support. "Those women who had been killed for months on end, the ones where a Banzetian Sanitizer was used on them to remove the evidence? Marcus killed them. Him and some 'friends' of his."

Tosh shook her head. "No. That can't be, Jack. Marcus was a loner but he wasn't like that. He was always a gentleman to me. You too, Suzie?"

"Yeah, Jack. You sure you have that right?" Suzie questioned.

Seeing the disbelief in their faces and hearing their denials, he looked into their eyes one at a time. "He confessed it to me. We came across one of his friends..." He swallowed tightly, regaining his composure for a moment. "Someone has been hunting down his group, killing them in retaliation for the murders. Or at least one of the murders. I'm not sure."

"He confessed?" Owen stated. "I knew there was something weird about him. You know that time you had me go to the hospital about that Langford woman? The one who survived? I saw Marcus around there. Maybe he was there for a reason."

Jack sighed, shaking his head more in an act of frustration than to negate Owen's words. "Probably wanted to make sure she didn't come out of that coma she was in, prevent her from identifying them."

"Well, this explains the women but it doesn't explain what happened to Marcus," Suzie pointed out, giving her boss a look to emphasize her concerns. "What happened?" His silence as he looked into her eyes was all it took for her to make the correct supposition. "The person who killed the others… killed him," she realized.

Jack hesitated for a moment before pushing off of the wall and going into his office without a word, closing the door behind him.

"Don't tell me he's going to go all woggly on us again!" Owen stated, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so Marcus is dead. If he killed those women... and remember how brutal those were... he pretty much asked for it, in my opinion."

"Oh, shut up, Owen," Tosh berated him. "Can't you see this is really hurting him? You could be more understanding every once in a while."

"Understanding is one of those words chicks use." When Suzie pushed at him, he turned to her. "What? You going to tell me you don't ask your boyfriends to 'understand you?' It's what all you skirts do."

Tosh exhaled in disgust of her co-worker's attitude before pressing on. "I think..." She stopped, turning to her computer. "Never mind, it's a bad theory."

Suzie pushed past Owen, ignoring his taunt. "What, Tosh? What are you thinking?"

"Well... Owen does have a bit of a point, even if he is a pig. Jack isn't the kind to get this upset without a really good reason. And... Marcus obviously was killed because of what he did to those women which, if you think about it, would be a kind of justice. I just... I would think that Jack would be more angry with Marcus for betraying us - all of us - than be emotionally withdrawn like he is."

"Jack's weird, Tosh. You know that," stated Suzie. "He's just... I don't know... different."

"He's not that different, Suzie. Not so different as to go completely against what we do know about his personality. From everything that he just told us, he should be seething, not sulking away like he is," Tosh pointed out. "I think... maybe... he knows who killed Marcus." Before Suzie could speak, she continued. "Think about it. He's acting the same way he did after he had you do that DNA analysis and had me pulling up records. And after we got the results, he became withdrawn, just like now."

Owen walked up to the other two. "She's right, Suzie. Jack's acting like a horse's ass again."

Suzie looked between her colleagues. "Then how about we get the truth from him?"

Owen looked over to the office. "If he's true to form, he's just going to clam up."

Tosh sighed. "Let me talk to him."

"Yeah," Suzie said. "I mean, the worst that can happen is... he'll ignore you."

"Or fire me," Tosh muttered, slowly standing. She hesitated for a moment before straightening her clothes and walking to the office door before knocking. When no response was forthcoming, she opened the door and peered in. "Jack?"

Jack at first didn't look up but Tosh continued to stand there. Finally, he turned his head to her and looked at her full on. His eyes spoke to her like some lost soul. "Can whatever it is wait, Tosh? I'm not sure I'm up to discussing nanotechnology or whatever it is you're on today."

"Actually..." she started, taking the steps necessary to be fully in the office and in front of Jack's desk. "It's about... you. Umm... well... you aren't acting like your usual self and these murders obviously have something to do with it. If you want to talk..."

"Talk? About what? About the fact that I hired and was the friend of a man who took the word depravity to new heights? I liked Marcus, Tosh. He was a pretty fun guy. How could I miss his true colors?" That wasn't what was fully bothering him but he figured that this would probably take her mind in a different direction than the one his own mind was going.

Tosh thought about his words for a long moment, nodding with understanding. However, Jack's words didn't explain everything, like why he'd behaved so before with the DNA testing he had them do. She knew in her gut that the two had to be related. "You know who killed him, don't you," she stated more than asked.

"What?" Jack asked, a little shocked at the question. "What makes you think that, Tosh?"

"You're behaving the same way as after Owen did that DNA analysis, comparing it to the mutated DNA at those crime scenes. And you got this look in your eyes after every murder of those men, the mutilations. And now this, with Marcus being murdered... It was the same person, wasn't it? And you know who it is."

"No. I don..." he started. The weight of the knowledge was too great, though. He knew he shouldn't say anymore but it hurt too much. "I didn't want to believe it but… yeah. I think..." He closed his eyes. "I think I know who did this. But it had to be for a reason. He wouldn't do what I saw without a good reason. He couldn't."

She slowly sat in the chair in front of the desk, a sympathetic expression tinting her face. "He's a friend," she realized.

"Yeah," Jack said. He looked up at her, pain in his eyes. "I just don't understand how he could do what he's done. He'd have to be insane."

She didn't know how to reply to his words, not having ever been in a similar situation. After a moment, she suggested, "Maybe you should find out. I mean, if you ask him... before the police find him..."

"I can't. I don't know where he is. I've been trying to find him for years." He gave a small huff. "Great way to catch up with him, huh?"

Tosh was silent upon hearing his words, again at a loss on how to reply. Everything that came to mind sounded extremely patronizing and in poor taste. Deciding that it was better if she just left, she slowly stood up and headed for the door. She turned abruptly as a thought niggled at her. "Jack, you're going to have to tell the police. If he's insane, he might kill again. You don't want that knowledge on your shoulders."

Jack shook his head. "No. It's over. Marcus was the last one. He was killed in the same ware..." Suddenly Jack's forehead creased as if he'd suddenly realized something. "It was the same warehouse, Tosh."

"The same warehouse?" she questioned with a frown, wondering where this was going.

"Yeah. You remember the first time. The body that couldn't be identified until later? The one after Suzie found the body while chasing the weevil? It was in the same warehouse the police identified as the spot the Langford woman was raped and left for dead. That's where Marcus was murdered."

"You think they're all related?" Tosh asked.

"They must be. Otherwise, why would he do it at the same place twice? There must be a connection." He looked down thoughtfully before his head popped up. "Tosh, I don't want the others knowing. Only you and only because I need your help. I need to know anything you can find about Dr. Periwinkle Langford. Somehow she's involved in this whole thing one way or another, something to do with her: personal, professional..." He sighed, voicing his frustration with the lack of information he had on why the Doctor would even think about murdering six men, regardless of their guilt.

Tosh slowly stood, nodding. "Dr. Periwinkle Langford," she repeated, making sure that she had the name correct. She hesitated a moment, regarding Jack with sympathy. "Anything else I can do?"

Jack considered the question. "I just don't know, Tosh. Right now, I feel like the bottom has fallen out from underneath me." He gave her a wry grin. "Got any suggestions?"

"Cup of coffee?" she queried. "I know it isn't exactly an answer but... it can't hurt."

Jack smiled at her. "Yeah. You're right. It couldn't hurt." As she started to go for the beverage, he called out. "Thanks, Tosh. I don't remember the last time that anyone cared enough to ask."

"Well, you take care of us. The least I could do was to take care of you in return," she replied before leaving the office to go procure the offered coffee.

Jack watched her go. He thought once more about the murder scenes he'd witnessed before realizing the truth of situation. "All I can do is try to find out what happened. If I dwell on this, it's going to drive me crazy." He pulled out a file folder and put the drawings and other papers into it. Then going over to his file cabinet, he put away the bulging file. "I will get to the bottom of this. One way or the other."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

After the delectably wonderful murder of Marcus Erickson, which took a record breaking twenty hours to complete, the Master returned to the house to clean up from his adventures for the last time, giddy with the joys of fulfilled vengeance? After a shower and a meal - breakfast on the patio - he walked to the hospital with a spring in his step, greeting everyone with a broad smile as he went to Peri's room.

"Good morning, my dearest!" he announced, relishing the feel of the words on his lips. "Did you rest well? Sorry I couldn't be by yesterday. Business."

Peri looked over to him. "Harry, you're positively glowing. You look like you just did a hostile takeover of some rival company." She nodded to the gentleman who was standing to the right of her bed. "This is Detective Inspector Parson. He's been investigating the attack on me... and something about a couple of murders in the same warehouse where I was attacked."

The Master regarded the human policeman for a second, masking his anxiety - and the thrill of excitement that raced through his hearts - with concerned interest. "Murders?" he questioned, going to the bed to take his usual seat. He gathered Peri's hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "What murders?" He seemed to think for a moment. "These wouldn't be the ones I read about in the papers, would they? Those men so brutally..." He shook his head in supposed disbelief. "It's unimaginable." He frowned slightly. "But I thought there had only been one in that warehouse where Peri was attacked."

Detective Parson gave the man he knew as Harold Saxon a nod of greeting. "Well, sir... there has been a second one at that very warehouse with enough similarities to the first that we're checking all possible leads. After all, it's quite unusual that we would find four murders with the same M.O. and for them not to be connected in some way. The last two at the warehouse especially show a distinct relationship. We understand that you and Dr. Langford are colleagues and furthermore that you and your assistant arrived in our city just before these murders began. We'd like to take a sample of your DNA and that of your assistant. Purely to rule you out as suspects, of course."

Saxon nodded slowly, a ponderous look on his face. "Of course," he agreed. "You'll receive full cooperation from both of us. But... must I leave with you now? I literally just got here and... well, with Peri having been in a coma for so long, I want to spend as much time with her as I can."

"It's a very easy process. Perhaps we could have one of our forensic technicians pop into your local residence later today with a detective? It will literally be a quick cheek swab and a few questions to establish your whereabouts on certain nights in question."

Harry looked at him with a slight glance of annoyance. "I am aware of the process, D.I. Parson. I am a scientist, you know. And yes, having your technician and detective come by later today is fine. Preferably after two o'clock. My assistant Mr. Torkinson will also be available."

"Right, then." He turned to Peri. "Dr. Langford. We're happy to see you are making a recovery and thank you for your cooperation today. Too bad you have no real memories of the attack. It would have been helpful to assure that all your attackers were brought to justice."

"If I do remember anything, I'll be sure to let you know, Detective Inspector," Peri assured him with a small smile. "Thank you."

"I hope you can find those men, Inspector," Harold told him as the policeman started for the door. "I want to see justice done for Peri more than you can possibly imagine."

"Yes. Thank you." The man took his hat and placed it on his head before walking out of the door.

After she was sure he was gone, Peri turned to the Master, worry clouding her eyes. "Harry? Do you think it's wise to cooperate so willingly?" she asked him quietly. "What if they..."

"What if they what, darling?" he questioned her, gently squeezing her hand.

"Well... what if they are able to piece things together? After all, there could have been something inadvertently left or some other clue that could point them towards you or Reggie."

Harry smiled broadly at her, his eyes shining as he was giving yet another proof of her listening to him while in her coma. "Oh, my brilliant, beautiful little primate! You heard me talk about my plans to you."

"I wasn't totally sure it wasn't a dream but still... you were careful, weren't you?"

"Of course, I was. We didn't leave anything behind that would implicate Reginald, especially since he was barely there. And if I did leave any kind of DNA behind, they'd never be able to identify it. Their primitive little brains wouldn't be able to handle the fact that an alien from another world is their prime suspect."

"But they're going to take your DNA..."

"They are going to take _Harold Saxon's_ DNA," the Master corrected her. "And Harold Saxon is as human as you are."

Peri's forehead creased slightly. "I don't understand."

He mocked a frown at her. "Oh, Peri. I thought you were brilliant a moment ago." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small container that looked very much like a denture case before giving it to her. "There's your solution."

She looked at the box with a frown. Moving to open it, she found her actions immediately hindered when Harry yanked the case from her hands.

"Prosthetic cheeks with human DNA embedded into its surface," he explained to her. "Best 'get out of jail free card' I've ever developed. In addition, I have a lovely bottle of human saliva disguised as simple water to mask my own DNA long enough for their technician to take his or her precious sample."

She gazed on him with wide eyes filled with admiration. "Who's DNA did you use?"

"Some... homeless human. Don't recall his name. Not that it matters anyway. He won't need it for the rest of his life." He grinned, sheepishly. "If he still had a life to need it for."

Peri smiled. "And Torkinson?"

"Like I said, he was hardly there. And we made sure that he didn't leave anything behind thanks to gloves and a cap." He brushed her knuckle gently. "Don't worry. I like Reggie. I'm not about to let him get himself killed anytime soon."

Peri nodded. "Well then, when do you think we'll be able to get back to Australia? I don't want to stay here a moment longer than is absolutely necessary." She glared out the window. "I hate Cardiff."

Harry couldn't help but nod. "Yes. There is something very... unsettling about this city." He shivered slightly, getting the nagging feeling once again that there was something very wrong with Cardiff. What that something was, however, he couldn't put his finger on. After all, it was just another city on a backward planet. But ever since he felt that impossibility back under Mermaid's Quay… Shaking his head to clear it, he leaned forward slightly, sandwiching her hand between his two. "Just as soon as the doctor says you can leave, we will. Undoubtedly you will have to go through some physical therapy but I don't see why we can't do that in Melbourne."

"I'd like that." She looked down for a moment before raising her eyes to him again. "Please don't ever send me away again, Harry. I don't think I could bear it."

"Never," he promised, his own dark eyes burying themselves into her blue ones. "I have said it once and I will say it a second time. I will never send you away again. I promise on my hearts."


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

_Melbourne, Australia_

_March 2007_

It was two weeks before Peri was given medical clearance to leave the city, with the stipulation that she travel with a physician aboard to ensure her health. It was an easy condition to meet, however, since the Master had Lothos send one of his own medical officers to Cardiff for the trip back, a trip made all the better when he watched Peri's eyes, gauging her wickedly giddy reactions to seeing the films he had made of the tortures and deaths of her attackers.

The issue concerning whether or not Harold Saxon and Reginald Torkinson were suspects in the string of murders was quickly put to rest when the DNA samples taken were tested and proved not to match the odd DNA found at the scenes. Harold Saxon did enter a search protocol to see what happened with the investigation and wasn't surprised when the trail grew cold. He was still upset that no one seemed to know anything about the pictures he'd left at the scenes. Only Marcus had seemed to connect a Gallifreyan with the brutal events and he had believed the Doctor had been responsible. Yeah, as he were capable of such.

Furthermore, it made no sense that there was nothing in the records about the drawings. He knew that was the case as he'd hacked into the police computer in Cardiff as well as UNIT's mainframe. With a frustrated sigh, he considered the possibilities. Either someone was being especially secretive in what they were entering into the database or someone had found the pictures and the poems before either UNIT or the police could get to the scene and had done nothing about the bodies. But who and, more importantly, why?

Still, he had his Peri back. She was making great progress in her recovery. Soon, she would be back at his side, helping him along as he made his way through life on this dismal planet. And with Reggie now working for both of them... well, things certainly were getting better.

As he was thinking about this, he didn't notice her quiet entry into the room. She slowly moved to where he was sitting, hindered by her gradual healing. Perching herself on the edge of his desk, she reached out to touch his face. In the past, if anyone had touched him in such a way, he would have scorned them - at least mentally - for their actions. But Peri... Since he first heard her voice, he'd been fascinated with her. When he had talked to her during those long days and nights of waiting for his freedom, he'd come to admire her intelligence. And since then, he'd found just her presence quieted the never-ending drums in his mind. It was becoming obvious to him more and more that he had to have her at his side.

"Time and time again, you have proven yourself to me." He opened his eyes to look into hers. "You, Periwinkle Langford... are perfect. I have to keep you. Forever." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Somehow."

She grinned. "Please do. I'm yours, body and soul, for as long as I live."

"That's not good enough. You will die so soon... and I will go on. Completely unacceptable."

She blinked. "Die soon? What do you mean? Women in my family live into their nineties. That's another sixty years, assuming I don't have an accident."

"A blink of the eye," he told her bluntly. "Plus in twenty years or so you will no longer have that perfect body you have now. So, I have some time to figure something out."

When he had mentioned her 'perfect body', she turned away. "It's not so perfect anymore, Harry."

"It's perfect to me," he told her, reaching over to turn her face back to him. "Every inch of you is a reminder to me of how strong, how... amazing you are." He seemed suddenly introspective. "I can't lose such a treasure."

"I don't understand."

"I'm a Time Lord, Peri. You are human. I'm very old compared to you. And you are but a child compared to me."

She sighed. "That may be true, Harry, but it doesn't feel that way to me. It feels that you are the one I have been seeking all my life. I feel that we are soul mates, my love. That somehow, we're destined to be together."

He blinked at her words, her tone indicating some sort of disconnect between them that he hadn't been aware of. "And you don't think that that is the way I feel about you? Periwinkle, I literally have never loved another soul before I knew you and I've lived for over twelve hundred years. How much more of an example of destiny can you get? Which is why I have to find a way for us to stay together. I can't bear the thought of losing you in sixty years time. To go on without you... I want you to be with me for the rest of my lives. Which means... somehow... I have to find a way to make you a Time Lord as well."

Peri looked to him. "Is that possible?"

"At the moment, no. But as I said, I have twenty years to figure it out. Well, twenty years before you start the decline you apes all seem to go through. Wrinkles, moles, warts, excess adipose tissue… your species just doesn't age well. I mean, Time Lords may get white hair after three hundred or so years in a single incarnation but..."

"We can't help it, Harry. It's in our DNA."

"Just as it is in mine to not go all decrepit after only fifty years," he told her emphatically.

She looked down. "Twenty years may not be enough time."

"And what makes you say that? You're still in your late twenties. Early thirties? You know, I never did ask how old you are."

"Does it matter?" She huffed a bitter laugh. "Has any other species than yours ever been a Time Lord?"

"No," he answered bluntly. " That honor can only be bestowed to Gallifreyans. We have the genetic stability necessary for the conversion." He paused thoughtfully. "Not that anyone from another species has ever been offered the chance to become a Time Lord. My people are a little xenophobic. They don't really like outsiders, especially not from a lesser species." He took a deep breath. "However, I am a genius. I can figure out anything."

Peri let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "I'll do anything you need to help you. The idea that I could spend your lives with you is a wondrous proposition." She paused. "We would always be together?"

He gave her a smile. "Always. You'll be my queen, Periwinkle. We'll rule the universe together." He took a breath. "But for now, it's time for bed. Get some sleep. I have no doubt we both have a long day tomorrow."

She got up and moved beside him. "Sleep with me tonight?" He'd seldom done so before he'd sent her away, but tonight she wanted him with her.

"I don't need as much sleep as you. You know that," he reminded her.

"I know. I just want to lay my head on your chest and fall asleep to the sound of your hearts."

"Sentimental ape," he berated with a grin.

"Yes," she agreed with her eyes, still asking for the small request that meant so much to her.

Mentally, the Master rejoiced in her reply. She was indeed absolutely perfect. She obviously adored him and wasn't afraid to take risks. But she also wasn't afraid to speak her mind on what she wanted or thought but still remembered that, in the end, he was in charge. And, if he were honest with himself, he enjoyed being with her. In fact, he didn't think he could handle being away from her for any great length of time. For the first time in his lives, he was seriously thinking of... Rassilon forbid... marriage!

He sighed melodramatically, keeping up appearances he suspected she could see right through. "Very well. Because you wish it so much."

Taking her hand, he pulled her into the bedroom. He guided Peri to the bed and pulled her up against him, gently pressing her head against his chest. It wasn't long before he heard her steady breathing indicate that she had fallen asleep. With a knowing smile, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, the day coming to a most satisfying conclusion.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Melbourne Australia_

_April 2007_

Over the last two months, ghosts had been appearing all over the city. All over the world, in fact. Not that the Master had paid much attention to them while he was in Cardiff retrieving his Peri, ignoring them when the "ghost shifts" occurred. But now that they had been back at the Prometheus Institute for over two weeks, their daily presence was starting to become quite irritating, especially one, in particular, which appeared regularly in a certain lab. When it appeared the first time, it scared the socks off of some poor technician who had gone running from the room as if his life had depended on it. The ghost had remained for a total of five minutes before vanishing into thin air with no explanation as to where it had come from.

The Master didn't believe the apparitions were really ghosts. Not that he doubted the technician hadn't seen something. He himself had seen the "ghosts" while he was in Cardiff. But while the rest of the world went mad with panic, the Time Lord had started to wonder where the apparitions came from. After all, there were no such things as ghosts. At least, there weren't any ghosts by the human definition of ghosts.

"What are they?" he murmured under his breath not for the first time as he, once again, reviewed the security video in front of him.

Peri had joined him. "People say they are relatives who have passed on."

"The dead do not come back, Peri dear," he reprimanded her gently. "These apparitions are not ghosts."

Peri nodded. "I know. I was just saying what the conventional wisdom or lack thereof was."

"Well, most of your people are ignorant and thick," he told her. "You, darling, are an exception to the rule. And a gorgeous exception at that." He sighed and turned his attention to the tape again. "And this whole concept that Britain has been putting out that there are ghost shifts... Utter nonsense." He paused, leaning back in his seat. "No. Something is slowly pushing its way into this reality."

Peri thought about what he was saying. "Sort of like when we found you?"

"Ah, but this reality _is_ my reality. Always has been. You merely rescued me from my wrongful imprisonment. These... ghosts appearing all over the world, pushing into the fabric of this reality... It could rip apart the space-time continuum. Whatever they are, they have to be stopped. And to do that, we need to know what they are first." He took a breath. "It's appeared in the exact same location for weeks. We should isolate the room. Seal the room off, put guards on it, extra surveillance, reinforce the door." He huffed. "I'm surprised that Lothos hasn't done so already."

"Actually, I have," Lothos interrupted the conversation, coming into Saxon's office. "No security measures prevent the ghosts from leaving the lab area. Given that they seem harmless at the moment, I have reallocated my resources to better use until the assigned team has some answers regarding these phenomena."

Harry glared up at the ceiling. "Well, I want to be informed the next time we have a 'ghost shift'. I want to make my own observations of our mysterious visitor."

"Of course. Should be in about 22 hours."

It didn't take long to realize that Lothos was correct in his assessment concerning the security measures. The apparition walked through the reinforced doors and walls as if they were made of air. The staff seemed unaffected by its appearance, having seen it walking around the same times every day. The Master now had no doubt in his mind that, whatever the ghosts were, they were being helped into this universe. He also had a feeling that it was due to an organization he had done much research on, whose worn logo decorated some of the walls of Lothos' complex: Torchwood.

Lothos continued to be interested in the phenomena, even though he, like the Master, wasn't buying the idea that these were actual ghosts. Once it was obvious that the apparition never left the level it had appeared on, the disembodied consciousness limited the personnel on that level to the bare minimum. Two months into the study of the apparition had revealed much about what it wasn't and little as to what it was. Such lack of progress was frustrating for the Master, having read every bit of information that they didn't have, all collected during his absence. He spent much of his time now watching the human race embrace the new visitors like the family members they believed them to be. One of the staff even insisted that he could smell the cologne his mother wore when she was alive, absolutely convinced that the apparition in his living room was that of his deceased matriarch. Humans could be so thick, the Master knew. But at least he was assured that _his_ human, the amazing Dr. Periwinkle Langford, had her head on quite clearly. The Master stood at his office window now, watching as the people went about their business after midday ghost shift and shook his head.

"I'm glad for your presence, Peri," he told his lover. "It makes living on this world much more bearable."

"It works both way, Harry," she replied.

He motioned for her to join him at the window and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Not to worry. Another five years and you and I will see the stars together. Every single one of them. And they will all be ours."

She leaned back into him, happy with his arms around her.

Even as they watched the world continue about their ways, a plethora of screams billowed up from the street, catching their attention. The Master frowned as he saw humans running frantically around. Then he saw the source of their fears and he found his body stiffening with his own fear.

Her eyes closed, Peri didn't see what the Master did. However, feeling him stiffen, she opened her eyes. "What?" she asked, knowing he'd understand her question immediately.

"Cybermen..." he replied tightly. "The ghosts are Cybermen. This Earth is about to burn."

Peri blinked. "Cybermen? What are Cybermen? How do you know this?"

"I've encountered them before," he told her abruptly, taking her hand and moving towards a door. "They're humans, or at least they used to be. Probably came from a parallel world, which would explain why they appeared as apparitions until now. They didn't have enough power to come through completely before. In this universe, there's a sister world you lot haven't yet discovered on the other side of the Sun. The planet Mondas. The humans there evolved to incorporate technology into their physical beings. But they went too far. They became mostly machine, with only a brain and no emotions. Pure logic. And they think that the rest of the universe should be just like them. Personally, if they want to convert people into their own kind, that's their business. But I will not let them interfere with mine." He pulled her into what appeared to be a steel room with monitors. "Humanity doesn't have the firepower to stop a whole army of Cybermen covering the entire world. The most we can do is find a way to protect ourselves from the invasion."

"Are you saying that we might not survive?"

"We'll survive. The rest of humanity... well, think about it. How many 'ghost' sightings have there been all over the world in the last two months? Thousands, each one of them in reality a creature that can kill hundreds of humans for every ten Cybermen you can destroy by sheer chance. The human race is already dead, Peri. We only have three options. We can die with it, we can surrender and become just like them, or we can protect ourselves from the invasion that is happening right outside our doors. What would you do?"

Peri considered his words. "I don't want to die and surrender is not an option."

"So we seal ourselves in this building," he told her. "We hold out until I can find a way to get us off this planet without us being turned into a walking suit of metal with no sense of self. I just need you to stay in the panic room until we can stop the one Cyberman we have in this complex and until I can adjust the bioelectric field to prevent any more coming in."

Peri nodded, more afraid than any time in her life, allowing herself to be put into the panic room. The passionate kiss the Master gave her reinforced his possessive love of her, instantly making her feel at least more protected than the four walls which surrounded her the moment the panic room door closed and sealed.

Meantime, Lothos heard the screams coming from the level where the ghost had been studied. The team studying it begged to be pulled off the floor. Instead, Lothos took his consciousness to it. He looked around the floor, seeing most of his personnel either dead or being killed by the laser weapon on the robot's arm. A very few had found a place to hide at least for a few moments in hopes the monstrous being wouldn't find them.

Lothos's voice entered the room. "You will cease your activity now."

The Cyberman halted for a moment. "Identify," it ordered, its heavily electronic voice echoing through the room.

"I am Lothos. This is my domain. You will cease your killing."

"You have identified as Lothos. You will state your location," came the reply.

"I do not exist as a corporeal being."

"Then you are of inferior stock. You will be deleted." The Cyberman looked around at the room, searching for the remaining humans. "All humans will surrender for immediate upgrading."

"How dare you! A being of stainless steel and you call me inferior?"

"You react with emotion. This is proof that you are inferior. Cybermen will remove emotion. We cannot upgrade non-corporeal beings. You will be deleted as will any human who does not surrender."

"You've got it wrong. You will be the one to surrender."

"Cybermen will not surrender. We control this planet. You will surrender or be deleted."

One of the scientists, figuring that the Cyberman was occupied, tried to make his way to the elevator. Immediately, the Cyberman turned and raised its arm, firing its weapon, killing the scientist on the spot.

"All humans in this location will immediately surrender," it repeated its ultimatum.

The lights in the room dimmed slightly. "I said to cease but since you obviously cannot follow directions..." A laser beam shot directly into the eyes of the robotic killer, drilling its way into the creature. The mechanical scream that filled the room forced the remaining scientists to cover their ears in protection. The Cyberman shook as it screamed before falling face forward with a loud clang just as the Master ran into the room.

The latter stared at the form on the floor with surprise. "Well... that's one way of bringing it down," he commented. He looked around at the littering of dead humans that seemed to go on into the next corridor. "Such a waste."

Lothos spat out an order. "I want that... thing... examined thoroughly. I want to know how it got here and more importantly how it operates."

"It got here through a gap in the fabric of the universe," the Master told him with authority. "Very likely from a parallel world. It's the ghost you were trying to examine all this time. As for how it operates... you killed it. It won't ever operate again."

"It's a robot. I just overpowered its power source. There should be enough of its wiring to reverse engineer it."

"How thick are you! Seriously! It isn't a robot. Or didn't you notice the scream it gave when you killed it? I could hear it from the other side of the corridor." The Time Lord looked around the room, seeing the two scientists who managed not to be killed. He pointed to the door. "Go. Get off this level. Don't even try to leave the building. You'll just get yourselves killed."

"Watch how you speak to me, Master. What would you call it if not a robot?"

He waited until the scientists were out of the room before approaching the metal man and giving it a kick, just to be sure that it really was dead. "It's a Cyberman. The whole Earth is covered with these things now. As for its power source..." He reached into his pocket, walking towards the head of the creature. Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he buzzed it around the seams of the head before pulling the helmet apart. He reached in and pulled out the charred human brain inside. "There's your power source."

"A human brain? Oh, now that's just a waste. Keeping any actual organic material creates a huge weakness. That's why I left my body entirely behind," the voice said with derision.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You thought it was a robot, not a cybernetic organism. Plus, _they_ have just taken over the world while you are sitting here moping about not getting to reverse engineer this thing." He huffed. "Never thought I'd hear me talk like that. Me, actually defending the human race."

"It was an understandable mistake considering that the exterior was completely metallic." The voice paused. "Still, with the proper controls, I could use such an army. Humans following my orders and unable to be killed by traditional methods. Yes, this has potential."

"And exactly how are you going to do that? You have one body and a damaged one at that."

"I'll just create my own software. As to the power source, it would be much more efficient to use cloned brains. All I really need are the shells."

The Master laughed derogatorily at the idea. "And how, exactly, are you going to get them?"

"You really don't know about this place, do you," Lothos replied.

"I had no reason to involve myself in your day to day business affairs. I have been planning a takeover of this backward planet, if you will remember," the Time Lord replied with a huff.

"Well, we now have a much more cost-effective way to do that. This building hasn't always been the Prometheus Institute. I acquired it a number of years ago. Let's just say that the previous occupants were into a rather strange business."

"Yes. This building used to belong to a group called Torchwood," the Master commented, tossing the human brain on the floor without sympathy. "I've been investigating them."

"Do you know what these Torchwood people did?"

"Something about investigating alien activity on Earth. They're probably responsible for the invasion we are going through at this very moment."

"Well, I don't know how they could. When I found myself into the building, all I found were skeletons throughout. Looked like some of them died at their workstations. But that's not important. What is important is what I found." There was a pause. "Did you ever wonder how I became a non-corporeal intelligence?"

The Master didn't bother to correct Lothos' misconception that Torchwood was dead, having found well-hidden evidence that said just the opposite. Instead, he rolled his eyes and found a stool to sit on. "Tell me."

"I found a machine here that allowed me to take my consciousness and have it reside in the computer. Once I built up my organization to support that, I took that step."

"Wait... that sounds like a psychograft. They're illegal."

"And who do you think is going to arrest me? I could care less if they are," the voice said derisively.

"Me neither, actually. Go on. Thrill me with this grandiose plan of yours that is far more cost-effective than the one we have been working on for the past three years."

Lothos continued, ignoring the Master's words and attitude. "The laser technology that I used to stop this… thing... was from Torchwood as well, as are other tools we use here, including the way that I've raised the money to build those satellites of yours." Getting no reaction from the alien, he resumed his explanation. "I can see you're stumped. Let me illuminate. Humans are always in need of body parts for transplants. I found a machine that accurately replicates any body part perfectly. I've used it to provide transplants for those willing to pay for them. A few here and there for 'charity' keeps people from looking too close. Of course I never thought that replicating brains would be so 'lucrative,'" he said with a laugh of glee.

The Master frowned at his words. "You're cloning body parts for money with alien technology."

"Yes. A perfect business for a 'humanitarian' organization run by its non-corporeal founder. The irony is just delicious."

Saxon was quiet at Lothos' revelation. By the simple fact that the bioelectric hybrid computer was accurately cloning human body parts, it wasn't difficult for him to realize that the technology being used was Sontaran in origin. Only that particular race had perfected the art of cloning with such detail. "Well..." he finally said, his eyes focusing on his next concern with this new plan. "And the shells? How are you going to obtain those? Lure the Cybermen into your domain and laser blast them one by one? Would take a bit of time, wouldn't it?"

"Reverse engineer the shells, of course. It would be easier with another Cyberman but I think this one will do nicely. With the other tools I've found here, that shouldn't be too hard. A few days at most. There should still be enough humans around to make it worth my while. Besides, a smaller human race might actually be an advantage. Fewer souls to convince that it's in their best interest to follow my orders."

Again, there was a long pause as the Master pondered on Lothos' answer. Everything was going all wrong. Lothos was indeed correct that using materials already made and ready to use was definitely much more cost-effective. And the Master had no doubt that the non-corporeal entity could easily reverse engineer the Cyberman's shell. With a cloned human brain to run it, Lothos could even slowly obtain more shells. It would take time but it certainly was a feasible plan. But it was also hampering the Master's own plans. How could he possibly succeed in his takeover if Lothos was beating him to the punch this way? No, it just would not do at all. He had to find a way to prevent this from happening. "And what of me?" he questioned. He needed to know just how far Lothos would go in this plan.

"You? We're partners. You'll help me rule this planet. Or maybe you can be my general to go off and takeover some other prime pieces of real estate in this galaxy. I'm sure you know all the best planets."

"Of course," Saxon replied after a moment. Internally, though, he cringed. There was no way he was going to play second fiddle to a coffee can. But it seemed as if that was going to be the case, if Lothos got his way. Oh, sure. They would rule together, he said. But in actuality, the Master knew better. The person who held the main strings, whether monetary or otherwise, was always the one really in charge. He was just going to have to find a way to take control of Lothos, if his plan actually worked. "I suppose I had better leave you to it then," he told him, standing to leave the room.

"Yes. No time like the present," Lothos said, somewhat distracted. He scanned the room, finding at least a few of the scientists still alive. "What are you waiting for? Come out here now and start looking this thing over. I want to know exactly how to recreate one."

The scientists were cautious as they found their way out of their hiding places. Lothos told them the thing couldn't hurt them anymore and made it quite clear that he could. Knowing the owner of the Prometheus Institute would make good on his threat, they followed his orders.

The Master took a glance over his shoulder as he left, his mind already going at a hundred miles an hour as he wondered how he was going to regain the advantage he had, thanks to keeping most of the satellite technology to himself, before this new invasion. Taking the elevator back up to his office, he moved towards the panic room, knowing that in there was the only human he had ever cared for in the slightest. He knew there wasn't any way that the Cybermen could get through the bioelectric field now that he had adjusted it for human tissue. So what if a few humans were caught accidentally in the field in the process of protecting the Prometheus Institute. As long as the one that mattered to him was safe, it didn't bother him. "Peri?" he called out as he walked into the office. "Periwinkle, dear..." The door to the panic room opened, allowing him to go into the room.

"Are they gone?" she asked the moment she saw his face.

"No," he answered her honestly. "But I've insured that they cannot enter the building. Likewise, we can't leave but at least we are safe for the time being." He gave a huff. "Lothos has this insane notion of reverse engineering the one he killed and using it as a template to build an army of them that he can control."

"Can he do that?" she questioned.

He looked at her with surprise. "You're a physicist and you ask these things? Oh, Peri..." He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "I shall assume that being frightened has made you temporarily thick in the head. What do you think?"

"It's just that... well... I've seen what these things are doing." She nodded to the television that was monitoring the outside. "It's like there's nothing anyone can do. If Lothos has killed one, he's the only one that has. They're awful, just awful." She started to cry.

His face softened at her tears and he opened his arms to her. Pulling her close to him, he held her tightly. "We're safe here, my love. They can't hurt us. I promise." He took a breath. "As for Lothos' plans... it could work. And that's a definite problem."

Peri heard the concern in his voice and made a leap of logic. "Because he wouldn't need you the same way."

He gave her a knowing look. "The plan was never to be his subordinate and that's what would happen. Oh, he says I'll stay a 'partner', but in the next sentence, he suggested that I be his general to takeover other planets for him. And that isn't acceptable." He brought her out of the panic room, his arm still around her. "You can't rule the universe if you're answering to an egotistic can opener."

Peri laughed, unable to contain her mirth at the apt description. "Unacceptable, indeed. Especially for you, my love. You should be an emperor."

"And you an empress," he agreed. "No. I won't accept anything less. We just need to figure out how to beat Lothos at his game. Somehow gain control over him and his new army. Let him and his do all the hard work and then pull it out from under him. Until then..." he escorted her to the window and looked out. A woman, screaming and running from a Cyberman, ran directly into the bioelectric field surrounding the building, causing her to seize before collapsing. The Cyberman followed her actions almost exactly. "We wait for the right moment under Lothos' 'benevolent' care," the Master added as he and Peri watched the world slowly come to an end.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Lothos's team had been working for about an hour, having dismantled the Cyberman. They were about to do a comprehensive scan to record the inner workings of the creature when suddenly all the pieces and parts of the cybernetic being rose from the table and flew at a rapid speed out of the room, finding the course of least resistance.

Lothos' voice took on a static that took the place of an angry scream. "Bring that back here," he told his scientists. "I don't know what you did, but you must retrieve it."

The scientists ran after their subject, knowing there was no way to catch it at the speed it was moving. One of them nodded to their fallen comrades who had not yet been removed from the room. Realizing Lothos was not likely to be forgiving, he stated, "I think they were the lucky ones."

The metallic form continued through the hallway until it reached the elevator shaft, the only gap in the building large enough for it to move through. The elevator had just reached the floor and the doors opened making the electrical conveyance the easiest place to go. Unfortunately, it also struck the person who was about to step out with one of the exposed sharp edges of metal. The unfortunate lab worker fell back in the elevator at which point the doors closed again. Apparently someone had pushed the button at the top floor because the box rose up through the void carrying one dead human and the parts of the Cyberman which pressed tightly against the door awaiting its freedom. Having reached its destination, the doors opened and the silver pieces flew out again seeking its exit from the building, causing Peri to scream in fright at the sudden appearance of the creature, dismantled or not.

The Master quickly grabbed Peri and pulled her further to the side as the Cyberman rushed out of the elevator. He was just relieved that they hadn't been standing right in front of the doors when they opened, especially after he noticed the dead body left behind. He and Peri watched from a doorway, holding tightly to the doorframe, as the parts continued through the outer office before smashing through the nearest window, namely the large window in Harold Saxon's sanctum. It was stopped briefly by the bioelectric field but the force that was pulling it was stronger, causing the cybernetic form to burst out into the open air.

Once quiet was restored, Harry dared to go into his office, Peri clinging to him. "It's over," he finally announced, his tone showing how stunned he'd been by the sudden change in events.

"What just happened?" Peri asked. She moved cautiously from behind him. As she turned toward the window, her eyes grew wide. "Look, Harry. They're all leaving."

The Master regarded the scene in front of them as he looked out of the broken glass. The wind whipped at his suit jacket as he stood there, watching the Cybermen - all the Cybermen - rushing into the air, squealing electronically as they went. "They're not leaving," he corrected with realization. "They're being taken! Forcibly pulled away!"

"How? Nothing on Earth could do that."

"Exactly," he told her. He turned towards Peri and then started to pace, always stopping just before falling through the window to his death. "It's like I said earlier, the Cybermen pushed their way to this reality, which means that they likely came from a parallel world. I surmise that somehow they broke down the barrier between this world and the world they came from, crossing the Void to get here." He paused in his pacing, obviously thinking hard on the subject.

"What's the Void?" Peri questioned.

"It's the space between realities. You would call it Hell. I passed through it once. A dozen lifetimes ago. When you pass through the Void especially, although all voids are similar to an extent, you pick up these particles that cling to you. Eventually they disperse over time but there are still a few particles left on me, enough that I could feel myself being tugged towards the window only moments before the Cyberman smashed through it."

"That could have happened to you?" she questioned, wide eyed.

He gave a hint of a nod. "If I had more Void particles on me." He took a deep breath, turning again towards the window. "Somehow, the Void was opened, pulling the Cybermen in." Slowly, a grin grew on his face. It quickly turned into a joyous laugh as he jumped up and down. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Doctor!"

Peri smiled at the happiness Harry was exhibiting. "Your enemy?" she questioned with a bit of confusion.

"At the moment, our best friend, even if I want to see him suffer horribly." Seeing the look on her face, he took her hand and pulled her to him, dancing with her to music that only he could hear. "He has this strange fascination with this planet, always looking out for it. You can bet that if anyone could literally swipe the Cybermen off their feet, it would be either him or me. And since I didn't have the resources, it _has_ to be him. And now that the Doctor has inadvertently helped us thwart Lothos' new plan for world domination, we can continue with our own." "

"Then I rejoice that he's helped us for now. However, if you want him to suffer, then I do as well," Peri said with conviction.

The Master gave her a loving smile. "You don't even know him and you have such conviction about your words."

"Well, you wouldn't have him as an enemy if he didn't deserve it, right?"

"Oh, Peri..." he murmured. He looked into her eyes deeply. "You are going to make a remarkable queen." She smiled up at him, no words needing to be said as she basked in his praise. The Master's eyes widened suddenly with realization. "I have to reset the bioelectric field. Wouldn't want to draw attention to ourselves with people being killed whenever they try to approach this building."

"That would be wise," Peri said with a small grin.

Kissing her passionately, he put his arm around her waist and guided her through the door. "I think this calls for a celebration. Just you and me... and a bed." Hearing her gentle laugh, he turned his head towards Reggie, who had just walked into the reception area with a stunned look on his face, recovering from the attack of the metal men. "Clean up this glass, Reginald, and arrange for the windows and doors to be replaced," he ordered as they left.

"Yes, Master," Reggie replied, looking at the mess he found in the office with trepidation.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

_Any that's the end of this book. Don't fret, though. We have the next book already ready to go! Look for "Diverging Timelines – Book Two: A Tale of Two Doctors". Now that the back story of the Master and Peri is done, the _real_ story is about to start!_

_Thank you so much for your patience as we set up this necessary backstory. And please review! We feel like no one has been reading our story, which makes us very sad._


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